


Power, Perceived

by broomclosetkink



Series: In All Forms [1]
Category: Rurouni Kenshin
Genre: Alternate Universe, Complete, Drabble Collection, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-09-18
Updated: 2012-09-19
Packaged: 2017-11-14 13:25:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 46
Words: 23,032
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/515681
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/broomclosetkink/pseuds/broomclosetkink
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kamiya Kaoru is sold like she is a part of her father's estate, placed between the furniture and art. Drabble collection, complete.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Contest

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: A series of interconnected drabbles in an AU world. Solicitors in pre-Meiji Japan? There are now. Also, UNENDING WAR. Angst! Any mistakes contained herein are my own. Reviews are always appreciated, of course.
> 
> Disclaimer: I do not own Rurouni Kenshin.

Kamiya Kaoru is sold like she is a part of her father’s estate, placed between the furniture and art. She kneels prettily, hands held like captive birds in her lap, counting her breath to keep calm. The towns people have always said she was quite spoiled by her father, who taught her the way of the sword and dressed her like a boy, took pride in her strength and determination. That is how she is used to being treated – as an equal. An intelligent, comprehensive person who can make her own choices, despite her gender.

 

Her father is dead, though, and there are few men who will treat her in the same way. Not his solicitor, the creditors, her future husband; not even her father, as his last act towards her is one of ultimate betrayal.

 

“My daughter I leave to Himura Battousai,” the solicitor reads dutifully from the last will and testament of Kamiya Koshijirou, while Kaoru counts her inhalations and thinks about all the ways she could render the man unconscious, broken, and bloody. “Who she will become the wife of within two weeks after the reading of this will, barring the death or grievous illness of Himura Battousai. She will take into her marriage a dowry of –”

 

Kaoru almost faints from anger as she realizes that she is being bartered away. _Take my daughter_ , her father’s ghost seems to urge, _and I will pay you gold and silk, crockery and ink paintings, as well as all her dignity_.

 

“This is as agreed upon with Himura Battousai in previous contracts, dated and signed by both Himura-san and Kamiya-san. Which I have here,” the solicitor shuffles a few papers, pulls several that are bundled together under a slim cloth cover, holding it briefly aloft as proof. “Do you contest the previous contract or the delegation of the will, Himura-san?”

 

“No,” the voice that emerges from the small man kneeling close to Kaoru is surprisingly deep for someone of his minute size. He is barely taller than she is, broad enough to be obviously male but still quite narrow. His hair is a waterfall of brightness that Kaoru cannot look at. It hurts her eyes while she morns her father’s death and betrayal; it is too vivid and fluid. She wants to cut it with rusty sheers, until it liters the ground like solid tendrils of blood. “I do not contest.”

 

Kaoru stares at the tatami, and does not cry.

 


	2. Holy

"This is for you." After the solicitor leaves, Battousai catches Kaoru's hands long enough to press a letter into them. She looks into his face – it is angular and...pretty, except for the scar carved into his left cheek. It is a cross, and she wonders if she thinks himself holy for it.

His eyes are gold. She does not believe he is entirely human.

"Koshijirou asked me to give this to you if this day came," he tells her, holding on to her hands a moment too long for comfort. His palms and fingers are rough and worn, marking him as a swordsman. They match Kaoru's – she wonders if he will take that into consideration during their future. "I promised I would make sure you received it."

"Thank you." Kaoru bows, and even in her own ears her voice is hollow.

"I'll bring us some dinner," Battousai says after a beat, taking one exact step back. Kaoru wishes he would take a thousand, and a thousand more, and a thousand more, until he disappears and never comes back. She does not want or need a husband - she does not want or need anyone. Not even her father. Especially not her dead, lying, deceiving father. "I'll fetch you when I return."

"Thank you," she repeats woodenly, bowing a second time. "I'm going to rest until then." Kaoru can feel his strange yellow eyes on her back as she turns and leaves.


	3. Weak

The letter says;

 

_I promised myself I wouldn’t die and leave you, Kaoru-chan, but promises I make to myself mean little to the gods. War is a time of death, and our country has been dying for years, now. It was only a matter a time until I, who lived by a sword that hoped to save lives, died from a sword that brings only destruction._

 

_You hate me by now, I am sure. Because I’ve left you and because you see my action of choosing your husband and exerting my lawful rights as your father as a betrayal, and I do not blame you, Kaoru-chan. I raised you to be strong and stand on your own two feet, to take care of yourself and fight your way past your fears. This is a desperate time, however, and no matter how intelligent, clever, charming, or stubborn you are, you will not be able to save yourself._

 

_Himura Battousai is the strongest man I have ever known. He is swift and deadly; he is also very kind. He saved me when he had no reason to. He will save you as well, Kaoru-chan. He will keep you safe when I cannot._

 

_Be a good wife to Himura. I have entrusted you to him not because I wish to harm you, but because I wish to save you. If you use the kindness of your mother and not the stubbornness of your father, I think you will one day be as happy with him as your mother was with me._

 

_I love you more than there are stars in the sky, and please do not ever forget that everything I have done, I have done for your future._

 

Battousai does not find her until over an hour later. She knows the moment he slides the door open and looks into her father’s room, knows that he can see and hear her. But she doesn’t have the breath to tell him to leave, to look away, ask him not to watch while she finds herself at the weakest moment in her life. Kaoru can only hide her face, hugging her father’s sheathed sword to her chest, and _sob_.

 

The shoji slides shut with a swish, and the Battousai walks away without saying a word.


	4. Hope

“I bought your home,” Battousai tells her the night before their wedding. Kaoru lifts her eyes from her tea and stares at him, shock painted across her face. He does not look at her – his gaze remains squarely on the sunset. “With your dowry.”

 

“You...bought the dojo?”

 

Battousai shrugs, taking a sip of tea before he answers.

 

“Well,” he finally says, “I can’t keep a wife stashed in a bolt hole in Kyoto, can I? And when the war is over,” here his voice goes soft and thin, and it makes Kaoru’s heart – even through her haze of grief and disbelief – pick up speed. “I will need a home, as well.”

 

“This is a good home,” Kaoru tells him, hoping he understands what she _isn’t_ saying. “You will love it as much as I do, one day.”

 

“Do you think so?” There is...something in his voice. Something Kaoru can understand, because it is a raw throb, the same that she feels when she thinks of her parents. He looks at her, _finally_ , and his eyes have changed color; they are a soft lavender, shot through with gold.

 

They are beautiful.

 

“Yes.” Kaoru speaks firmly, and gives him the first smile she has worn since her father’s death. It isn’t as brilliant or large as she has been known to wear in the past, but it is a beginning, a step forward. “You will. I know it.”

 

He smiles back. It is almost...shy. Kaoru tucks it against her heart as a promise that there is more to him than blood and killing, and she names that smile _hope_.


	5. Tease

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is still one of my favorites among all the drabbles. :) Though, in comparison to the previous four, this one was also the one changed the most. Eh, just stylistic and grammar things, mostly.

“Please,” he asks as they kneel across from each other in the awkward, shivering, shattered silence of their wedding night. “Don’t be afraid of me.”

“I’m not afraid of you!” Kaoru finds more fire and spirit than she has felt in ages, and because she doesn’t have a shinai or bokken handy, she scrambles to her left, grabs her comb, and hurls it at his head. It bounces off his forehead with a solid crack, and Kaoru gives him a self-satisfied smirk. Battousai gapes at her, jaw nearly unhinged. 

His eyes are lavender, and he just barely whimpers, “Oro?”

“Does that look scared to you?” demands Kaoru, slapping her hands against her thighs. “Idiot! I’m the assistant master of the Kamiya Kasshin-ryu, why would I be scared of a red haired – red haired –” Kaoru sputters violently, trying to pick an insult.

Perhaps she is over reacting. She doesn’t rightly care.

“Idiot?” Battousai offers, smirking.

“Idiot!” She bellows, waving her hands. 

“I don’t normally sleep on a futon,” he says her suddenly, looking away, as though the wall is the most interesting thing he has ever seen his life. “You take it. I’m more comfortable sitting up, anyway.”

“Are you...sure?” The steam departs Kaoru’s sails, and she is suddenly unsure, though her cheeks still burn with the rush of blood her outburst brought on.

“I’m sure.” Nodding and serious again, Battousai moves his gaze to his knees. “I’m uncomfortable otherwise. I think I would like to sleep normally later, though. When we both are more comfortable together.”

Kaoru understands (she is naive, in ways, but she can read between his carefully spoken words to the meaning behind them), and she is thankful. She ends up on the futon in short order, while the Battousai braces his back against the wall under the window, facing both Kaoru and the door. He cradles his sword.

“Worried I’ll try and smother you when you go to sleep?” Kaoru finds herself teasing him. Her smile slip when he stares at her a long moment, expression blank, before he shakes his head, a faint smirk kicking the corners of his mouth upwards.

“You already attacked me with your comb...”

“You deserved it.”

“I was trying to be nice.”

“You were being an idiot, idiot.”

“Isn’t a wife supposed to listen to her husband and not club him with things on their wedding night?”

“You got a death wish, Battousai?”

“No.” His voice drops all of the teasing lilt it had gained during their enjoyable banter, making Kaoru’s limbs go rigid under her soft quilt. “Not anymore.”


	6. Acceptance

“My real name is Kenshin,” admits Battousai while sharing breakfast with Kaoru, the morning after their marriage. He speaks without provocation, and it seems to her that he has been struggling to get it out for quite some time. “I want to be more than the hitokiri Battousai when the war is over; I want to be Himura Kenshin. Will you help me remember that, Kaoru?”

 

“Idiot,” she says with something that is coming close to fondness, “of course I will.”

 

“I can’t be Kenshin again until the war ends.” Relief drips from his words like rain drops, or maybe tears, and Kaoru gathers them with acceptance. “I have to remain Battousai until that time, but it is good to know it is not all I have.”

 

There is an expression on his face that reminds Kaoru of her father. She doesn’t understand the reason he wears it, or why her father wore it, but she does know that there is guilt in his eyes and desperation on his tongue.

 

For the first time, Kaoru wonders why the most feared hitokiri in the world – who many civilians outside of Kyoto believe only to be a legend – agreed to marry her. She thought, at first, it was a debt he owed her father, or perhaps even kindness to him, agreeing to take care of his only daughter. Now she wonders if maybe his reasons are a bit more selfish, or at least self-serving.

 

Kaoru thinks she won't mind if they are.


	7. Scar

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sarcasm: the Battousai's OTHER weapon.

Battousai leaves three days after their marriage, and is gone for nearly two months. He sends messages when he can (which isn’t often), but Kaoru finds herself touched that in the middle of the bloodiest war that has ever been, he can find time to send her anything at all.

 

The first time he comes home he is wounded, and topples into the dojo floor bleeding all over the place, barely aware of where he is at. Kaoru tosses her shinai over her shoulder and bolts to him, skidding onto her knees, horrified at the sight before her.

 

“What’s the use of coming home if you’re just going to bleed on me?” Kaoru nags, and nearly cries when it makes him smile. “Sit up, you idiot, let me bind this wound on your back. And then I’m going to get the doctor! Which you passed on your way here, _why_ didn’t you stop then?”

 

“I wanted to annoy you,” he mutters, dropping his head until it rests on her shoulder. “It’s why I got stabbed, actually.”

 

“I knew it,” Kaoru sniffs, “you _faker_.”

 

Dr. Gensai has been taking care of the Kamiya family for _ages_ , and Kaoru is thankful that he does nothing more than raise an eyebrow at her when he first sees her new husband. He asks no questions, makes no demands, and does not give Kaoru a look of disappointment.

 

“You’ve lost a lot of blood,” he tells Battousai, “but you’ll live. Nasty scar you’ll have, though.”

 

“Oh no, I’ve never gotten a scar before,” Battousai mutters, gesturing pointedly to his already marked cheek. The look Kaoru gives him is dark. “What’ll I do?”

 

“If he can be sarcastic,” Dr. Gensai states rather serenely “he’ll be fine in no time.”


	8. Fragile

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lots more editing and tweaks, making this drabble read much easier than the first versions.

Even wounded he sleeps against the wall. Exhaustion carves dark bruises on the thin flesh under his eyes, and his mouth curls in a grimace of unspoken pain. Kaoru spends half the night lying on her side looking at him, unable to sleep, worry like a blade in her stomach.

 

_He is fragile_ , Kaoru thinks, or maybe fears. Physical strength, sword skills, astonishing reflexes – this does not make him any less frail. It is in his eyes, his breathing, the broken quality of his spirit.

 

Kaoru sleeps fitfully, dreaming of birds with clipped wings, and wakes to screams. It makes _her_ shout, startled, and she becomes tangled up in her quilt as she attempts to stand. Battousai is on his knees with his sword drawn, terror written across his face and – his eyes, oh his eyes; they shine like gold through the darkness.

 

Tears sparkle on his cheeks.

 

“Oh,” whispers Kaoru as she finds understanding. She watches him sheath his blade and collapse backwards, one hand covering his eyes as he fights to catch his his breathe and emotions. Nightmares...if anyone in the world has a right to them, it would be the hitokiri Battousai.

 

Kaoru quickly untangles herself. Crosses the room, she kneels beside him.

 

She tugs and gentles and pulls until somehow _she_ ends up in the Battousai's lap, though his face is hid in her neck, and he cries quietly, like a terrified child.

 

“I don’t want to kill you, too.” Battousai's tone is one of anguish, and it makes Kaoru’s heart ache. His grip on her is tight, as though she might try to fly away; his hands, though pressed against her back, vibrate with fearful tremors. “I don’t want to kill you – _Kaoru_ –”

 

“Idiot...” Kaoru whispers, tears burning her nose, hot on her cheeks. Is this the price of the endless war, men giving up their souls and killing for peace? Is there anything in the world worth the heartache she holds in her arms? Kaoru nestles her cheek against his head, rubbing the back of his neck while rocking them side-to-side.  


“You won’t kill me,” she tells him sternly, “I won’t let you.”

 

“ _Kaoru_ –” Battousai half gasps her name, and there is something like laughter in his voice, though not quite, as it ends on a sob. “How can you say –”

  
“You’re a good man, Himura Kenshin.” Kaoru is compelled to tell Battousai – _Kenshin_ – this, as she is sure he has forgotten. She thinks that this is the moment she will always remember as her first true act as his wife, and she prays it will be a solid foundation for what she dreams of building.“I knew that from the moment I met you. So be a smart man as well, and listen to your wife; you will not kill me, because I will not let you. No matter what you have to do in Kyoto for the war, or any where else, it doesn’t matter _here_.”

 

It takes a while, but Kaoru bullies him onto the futon. His uninjured arm is her pillow, and it is his bandaged hand that stays on her chest, palming the throb of her heartbeat, until well after dawn.


	9. Hide

For six nights they sleep curled together, Battousai's sword straight above heads, where he can easily grasp it. It is less like a man and woman resting together, and more like the cling of two lost children, sharing warmth and kindness on a winter night spiked with lingering grief from a past they have yet to share. They are comfort and kindness, something Kaoru thinks the both of them need more than anything else.

 

A messenger comes to the gates of the small complex, bearing summons for the hitokiri to return to his duties, and the idle peace of the dojo is shattered.

 

“I’ll leave in the morning,” he tells her afterward, hiding his eyes behind his bangs. “With the dawn.”

 

“You don’t _have_ to go back.” Kaoru knows that it is selfishness that prompts her words, but she has lost both of her parents to this war, and she does not want to loose _this_ man who is less than a husband should be, but much more than the unwanted intrusion than she thought he would become. “You could stay here.”

 

“They would come for me,” he tells her, quietly, with a thread of emotion in his voice she cannot place. “They would hunt me down, even after the war ends.”

 

“If it ever ends,” Kaoru cannot keep bitterness from her voice. “Ten years it’s already gone on, our barely trained boys being used as sword bait and cannon fodder. So who cares if they come looking for you? You’re the Battousai, and I’m assistant-master of the Kamiya Kasshin-ryu. I think we could hold our own, don’t you?”

 

“We could,” agrees Battousai softly. Then, in a bare whisper he asks, “Where would we go?”

 

“Away.” Kaoru rises up on her knees, reaches out and rests her fingers on his wrist. She wants to wrap her arms around him, burrow into his chest and hide, but she isn’t sure enough in their strange new relationship to do it. “Somewhere where you won't have to kill again. I’ll open a new dojo, and we’ll make a new home.”

 

He is the one to pull her against him, holding her tight, lips pressed against her forehead. He doesn’t speak, and though Kaoru has so many things she wants to say – _please don’t leave, I can’t loose anyone else, we’ll run away together, I think I might be falling in love with you, please don’t make me let you go –_ she, too, is quiet. She has no other choice. Her throat is too tight to speak.

 

For the seventh night they lay down together, legs tangled, the Battousai's broad palm over Kaoru’s breast. There is nothing expressly childlike about him now, no wounded creature seeking only warmth and comfort. He looks at her as a man looks to a woman, with some half blanketed fire in his golden eyes, a latent energy warming the air around him.

 

Kaoru knows, vaguely, what he is thinking. He is thinking of true marriage bed things, acts that go beyond any innocent touch they have shared. It scares her - despite growing up half-raised as a young boy, allowed to wear what she wanted and train in kenjutsu, her father was quiet protective of her innocence. Jokes often got vulgar between boys her father taught, but rarely for long within her hearing, and she understood them only in a very basic, dim way.

 

Battousai is warm, though, and when he shifts closer to her, it makes her heart jump under his hand.

His smile is slow and hot, scary and _thrilling_.

 

“Kaoru,” he asks quietly, “Have you ever been with a man before?”

 

“ _What_?” She nearly chokes on a hot flush of shame and rage, flailing against his hold, fully intent on finding something heavy and solid to beat him into unconsciousness with. How could he – what does he think she i _s_ , anyway? “You – what do you – _what_!?”

 

Battousai laughs – _laughs_! – and rolls Kaoru on her back. He settles above her, looking pleased and predatory. Pinning her hands above her head, he uses his body to trap Kaoru in place...and then he has the gall to lean down and brush his nose against hers. His hair, loose for once, falls around them like a flame colored curtain, blocking out everything except _him_.

 

Kaoru feels rather...breathless.

 

“You know,” Battousai tells her almost conversationally, except that he is on _top_ of her, so really there is nothing conversational about it. “A simple ‘no’ would have been much less dramatic.”

 

“Well, how do you know I haven’t?” demands Kaoru archly, flushing even as she asks. She hasn’t, of course – she wouldn’t shame her family or the Kamiya Kasshin-ryu in such a way, except now it’s okay because she’s married, and sometimes it _still_ sends her reeling when she thinks that she is a wife – but he seems so quietly smug that she wants to take him down a notch.

 

He lowers his head slowly, and Kaoru’s breath catches hard in her chest, her eyes widening. The edges of his mouth are quirked up in a small, warm smile. She closes her eyes, quelling under the intensity of her husband’s gaze.

 

Battousai gives Kaoru her first kiss two months after their marriage. His mouth is gentle and hot, coaxing both a startled noise and a flash of lightning through her stomach. His hands slide from circling her wrists, to threading his fingers through hers in a loose, comfortable grasp that Kaoru clings to as she shudders.

 

When he pulls away they are both breathing heavily. Battousai rolls them onto their sides, tucking Kaoru's head under his chin, releasing her hands to wrap her in a firm embrace.

 

“I know you haven’t,” the Battousai assures Kaoru, his voice ragged and deep and as much as a caress as his hand on her back. “I was just teasing you.”

 

“What a thing to tease about!” Kaoru does her best to grumble at him as she would any other time, but she finds her voice has gone all... _fluttery_...and it’s a bit hard to indirectly threaten him when she’s curled against him like a cat in a patch of sunshine.

 

“One day,” he promises her, “I’ll tease you and you’ll like it.”

 

“Idiot,” Kaoru mutters, though she can’t help but think she believes him.

 


	10. Dawn

“Next time when you come home..” Kaoru can’t look her husband in the eyes, not while they’re standing in front of the complex gate and he’s about to leave again. “Don’t wait until you’re wounded.”

“I’ll visit the doctor first.” Battousai promises, and she can hear the smile in his voice. Kaoru flinches when his fingers press against the underside of her jaw and chin, gently pulling until her face is tipped up, and she is reluctantly meeting his gaze. He is smiling, and it somehow it is comforting and sad all at once. 

“You’d better go.” Kaoru needs him to leave quickly, because there is a bubble of panic in her chest, and it wouldn’t be fair to send him off with the memory of her crying. She has to be strong; he is strong enough to shoulder the darkest burdens of their entire country. She can be strong enough to smile as he leaves, promising that when he returns he will be greeted in the same way. “The sun is rising.”

“Kaoru...” he says her name in the way he spoke to her the night before, and it is like a touch across her neck, sinking through her flesh to warmly cup her heart. She thinks it might make her knees knock together, certainly when he lifts his other hand and cradles her face between both of his palms, his expression so infinitely gentle that Kaoru can hardly stomach the knowledge that he is being sent out to kill. 

Kaoru meets him halfway when he leans in to kiss her. The vast sum of her experience with kissing totals a count of two now, but she makes up for her lack of knowledge and finesse with sheer willingness. She presses close against him, winding her arms around his neck and pouring out what she doesn’t have the bravery to say, but mostly what she does not yet understand, into this language of bodies and emotions, rather than stumbling over words that would fail her.

She is light headed and sporting a pair of terribly weak knees when he draws away, her hair heavy down her back and soft on her neck, as he has pulled the confining ribbon from it, allowing it fall loose. He smiles (a smug, very masculine look; not his normal sort) and Kaoru watches as he tucks her ribbon away. She notes that it rests over his heart, and maybe it is because she is young and never felt this way for a man before, but it makes her flush, a surge of giddy pleasure erupting through her veins like soap bubbles. 

“Goodbye, Kaoru.”

“Goodbye, husband,” Kaoru answers (he does not want, she is beginning to understand, his name of Kenshin to be blood soaked, and so she will not call him that when he walks off into war; but she does want him to remember that the war will end and he will have a home and wife to return to), giving him the best smile she can manage. “I’ll be waiting.”


	11. Buddies

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My love for Sano is unrepentant and as vast as the sea. I'd love to spend a night out drinking with Sanosuke and Hiko. ;)

“Excuse me.” Kaoru wishes, not for the first time and surely not the last on this long day, that she hadn’t worn her woman's kimono out. If she had been less rattled and more thoughtful, she would have dressed in her practice clothing; loose hakama and keikogi. If she was as clever as she tends to think she is, Kaoru would have brought her bokken, as well. “I’m looking for Zanza, the fighter for hire. I was told I could find him here.”

 

“ _You_?” A gangly youth asks, disbelief painted across his thin face. His voice cracking mightily. “Um, I don’t – I don’t think a lady like you ought to – I mean, what does someone like _you_ want with _Zanza_?”

 

“I just need to speak with him, all right?” Speaking through tightly gritted teeth, Kaoru finds herself too tired and frustrated to smile and lower her eyes, to ask nicely and coyly hide her reasons. “I wouldn’t be in this dump if I didn’t have a reason, would I?”

  
“N-No, ojou-san. But I don’t – I still don’t think –”

 

“You really looking for me?”

 

Kaoru peers up – and has to keep craning her neck back – to take in all of the long, lean, well muscled man that slips close to her side. He is handsome, she supposes, in a very _rough_ way.

 

“I don’t know,” Kaoru responds with obvious irritation. “Are you Zanza?”

 

“Depends on who’s askin’, don’t it?” He smirks.

 

Kaoru _glares._

 

“Himura Kaoru.” Every time she says it, she trips over it a little less – she thinks in a few years it will be completely natural. “Of the Kamiya dojo.” The man eyes her up and down for a long moment, before he shifts the fish bone he’s sucking on into the very corner of his mouth, stuffing his hands deep into the pockets of his trousers.

 

“Come on back.” He jerks his head to the left, “I guess we’ll need some privacy.

 

“So,” he asks once they’re in a small back room, a tightly woven mat blocking them from the rest of the small gambling hall. “You’re Kenshin’s wife?”

 

Kaoru notes that he does not call her husband _Battousai_ , as he was named even during their wedding, and Kaoru is rather awed by how much trust her husband places in this rough young man.

 

“Yes,” Kaoru answers, twisting the strings of her purse between tight fingers. Her spine begins to ache from how rigidly she holds herself. “I am.”

 

“I guess this ain’t no social visit to say hey to his buddies, eh?”

 

“I need to send him a message.” Kaoru pauses, not quite sure how to explain the rest of her situation. “And I need...I need some help. From you. He said that you could help me, I mean, if something happened.”

 

“Oh, man...” Zanza rubs his hand across the back of his neck, looking put upon but resigned. “He said I might have to help you put a new roof on the kitchen, but I didn’t think you were _really_ that bad of a cook.”

 

“He said _what_?” Kaoru’s voice rises too high and shrill for her liking, her hands balling into fists she plants on her hips. Her eyes narrow into a glare so quickly it almost hurts. “I’m not _that_ bad of a cook! He doesn’t complain when I cook!”

 

“With a look like that, I wouldn’t complain either,” Zanza mutters, shifting backwards. “Um, listen, just let me know how much damage was done, and I can –”

 

“It’s not about that.” Kaoru flaps one hand at the man, though she is still scowling (she is going to have a _very long talk_ with her new husband about telling other men about her cooking – when he comes home again, at least). “I was attacked this morning.”

 

“At- _attacked_?” Zanza’s voice breaks and cracks like the youth’s at the front of the hall, and Kaoru has to smirk at him. He gapes at her, hands reaching out, hovering worriedly over her arms. “Are you alright? Were you hurt?”

 

“I’m fine.” Kaoru doesn’t know him well enough to hike her kimono up and show off the stitches Dr. Gensai put in her thigh that morning, or to show him the bruising that is making her back ache as though she took the blunt edge of a sword to the spine. Which she had. “But I’ve got three guys tied up and locked in my shed. I don’t know what to do with them, and like I said, my –” Kaoru pauses, tongue curling inside her mouth before continues speaking.

 

“ _Kenshin_ ,” it’s rather thrilling to speak his true name to someone else, she has to admit it. “Told me you would help if something happened.”

 

“Sure I will, jou-chan.” Zanza gives her a sudden smile, big hand clapping her warmly on the shoulder. “Kenshin’s a real good buddy of mine, you know? So, first things first, you need to get a message to him in Kyoto, right?”

 

“Right,” Kaoru agrees thankfully, feeling the tension in her shoulders loosen. She pulls a folded letter from her purse, passing it to Zanza. “Here.”

 

“You give me a few minutes to get one of my boys here to take this to Kyoto for me.” Zanza holds the letter up between two fingers.“Then I’ll go check out those attackers of yours, alright, jou-chan?”

 

“Thank you.” Kaoru bows as deeply as she can against the pain in her back and her stiff, thickly bandaged thigh.


	12. Moocher

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Writing Sanosuke and Kaoru bickering will probably still be one of my favorite past times when I'm ninety and stuck in a nursing home.

Winter comes in bitter waves, stripping the earth of green and color, freezing both the air and water. It is a mean bite in Kaoru’s healing thigh, the stitched up gash aching with each burst of cold wind and rasp of her kimono. She ignores it as best she can, more than slightly used to injuries, though she has never suffered one from the bite of cold steel and the intent to murder.

It is different, and it makes Kaoru's heart throb when she thinks of the scars she saw on Kenshin’s pale body, as well as the ones her father had carried across his thick skin and heavy muscles. Now that she is older she realizes that they were all signs that her father escaped death, nearly died and fought his way out. They are proof that despite the fact he created a sword style that was meant to protect lives and invigorate the spirit...when pushed to the limit, with a sword to his gut and a burning desire to return home, he had killed.

It makes her think of her husband, who is still a stranger in so many ways. Kaoru hopes he fights as her father did when he was young, prays that the war will end; Kenshin will come home, and she will learn his secrets. 

Maybe it is because it seems pregnancy is catching around Edo (five women Kaoru knows rather well are growing heavy with child, now) but she thinks it would be nice to see red haired children in her dojo, learning the sword style of their mother’s family.

It’s no use wishing for those things yet, though, and so she turns her mind more practical matters.

“You eat my food.” Kaoru slams the shoji open so hard she fears she might have accidentally hurt the cherry wood frame. For now she ignores it, pointing her solid bokken at the startled lump sprawled across one of her spare futons. “You claimed a room without even asking if you could stay, expect me to do your laundry, and you come home at stupid hours of the night, drunk, singing dirty songs about dimples in places that I didn’t know women could have dimples!”

“I like dimples,” the lump under the quilt rasps dreamily, while Kaoru replenishes her exhausted breath so she can continue her bellowing. “Dimples are nice...”

“And you can’t even help around here? Get up, you lazy bastard, get up!” Kaoru prods the Sanosuke shaped lump with her bokken several times. He attempts to swat her away, and she changes her prods to thumps, cracking him hard on the hip bone. He yelps and sits upright, hair pointing in gravity defying ways. He sports a look nearly as sour as his morning breath.

“It’s early...” Sanosuke whines, fisting one hand to rub his eyes in a move that reminds Kaoru of a small child. That’s what Sanosuke reminds her off – a young boy. Who drinks, gambles, chases women, picks fights, and curses like a sailor.

All right. Maybe not a boy, after all.

“Can’t you let me sleep in just once, jou-chan?”

“There’s ice on the well.” Kaoru makes her voice stiff and hard as she issues the order, “Go break it.”

“Jou-chan -”

“Break it,” Kaoru threatens as she turns her back. “Or I’ll tell Kenshin what a moocher you are when he comes home.”

“Now that’s not fair,” grumbles Sanosuke, “threatening me with Kenshin. He was my friend first, you know!”

“Wife!” Kaoru waves a hand at him without looking back. “It trumps friend!”

“Damn,” Sanosuke mutters, and again, “Damn!” 

With her breath streaming in the cold morning and her thigh aching under the soft, well worn fabric of her hakama, Kaoru smiles into the fresh pink sky. Free loader or not, it’s nice to have someone with her, instead of shuffling around the empty complex all alone. 

Her students left shortly after her father was called to the fighting in Kyoto. Her parents are dead, and she has no siblings or family...except for her husband, who is off fighting in a war that seems it will never end. But she has a friend, one that ruffles her hair and makes faces at her when she gives him chores. 

For now it is enough.


	13. Letters

“Letters from Kenshin.” Sanosuke passes an unopened missive to Kaoru over the table at their evening meal, two weeks after the attack on Kaoru, and Sanosuke’s subsequent arrival into the dojo. “That one is for you. They came in while you were at the Maekawa dojo. He discovered why you were attacked.”

“Why I –” Kaoru has one finger under the flap, ready to break the seal holding it shut, but she pauses at Sanosuke’s words. “They were going to rob me. They were probably deserters from either side of the war, that’s what the police –”

“Gossip already spread all the way to Kyoto, jou-chan.” Sanosuke gives her a look that isn’t pity, but comes awfully close. “Battousai has a wife at home now, and they figure it’s a hell of a way to bring a great man down. What wouldn’t he do to keep you safe, huh?” 

“We barely know each other,” answers Kaoru stiffly, looking down at her bowl of rice as though it holds the answers of the universe. “He would be hurt if I was...if something happened to me. But it wouldn’t devastate him.”

“He cares a lot more than you realize,” speaking with a levity Kaoru does not expect, Sanosuke's expression is stark. “He already lost –” 

Sanosuke clears his throat, loudly and without a hint of manners, looking away.

“Well,” he finally continues, “he lost a lot. He wouldn’t want to loose more. You’re like his last hope, jou-chan. I ain’t here for your good cooking –”

“Hey!” Kaoru can’t stop herself from snapping, though she isn’t nearly as indignant as his digs on her cooking skills (or lack there of) normally invokes. 

“I’m here,” Sanosuke pushes on stubbornly, “to keep you safe. That man is hanging a lot on you, Kaoru, a lot more than you realize. And by the gods, I’m going to make sure he gets a chance to live the life he wants once this sorry excuse for a war is done and over with.”

“I...” Kaoru does not know what to say, how she should respond; even more, what he has insinuated leaves her baffled and flustered. She feels as though she is in fast moving water, swept quickly into unknown depths, caught by a current too strong to fight against. 

“I’ll eat later. I’m going to go...” Kaoru lifts the letter, and Sanosuke gives her his idiot grin.

“Love letters!” he teases loudly, because it puts them back on comfortable ground. “You newlyweds are disgusting.”

“Hush,” Kaoru threatens, “or I’ll read it to you.”

“Only if it has dirty bits.” Sanosuke leers, eyebrows waggling comically. “I bet it does. It’s always the quiet ones.”

“Pervert,” Kaoru accuses with no real annoyance or heat.


	14. Promising

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For me this one has layers. Like an onion. Har!

The letter read as Kaoru expected it would; brief and to the point, like every other she has received from him. She doesn’t mind; it is more than enough that he takes the time to send her anything at all while in such a hell. The letters are proof that he is alive, not a fresh corpse with his head on a pike to serve as encouragement for the opposing army.

 

But there is a bit, tucked between an explanation of who he believes is behind the attack on her life and his insistence that she allow Sanosuke to stay at the dojo (as though she could convince the lump to leave), that Kaoru finds...promising. So promising that she fears the ink will fade or the paper will rip due to her handling of it, even though she already has it memorized.

 

_I am glad you are safe,_ he wrote to her, _wounding you would wound my heart._

 

It is a simple line amid several others, but for Kaoru it is a beacon of hope in these dark times.

 

He cares for her, perhaps as much as she is coming to care for him, and there is such hope in her chest that she thinks she might float. So many other things are wrong – her parents are dead, her students are gone, and death covers her country like a plague made of steel and cannons – but this one sentence is the seed of the future. She will tend to it like a fragile green barely sprouting from the rich earth, and one day it will become a harvest.

 

It is a promise that the war will end, the killing will end, and she will have a new life.

 

She wants to write back, but knows it is dangerous to have another of Sanosuke’s men heading into Kyoto. There is too much of a chance they will unintentionally lead the enemy to Battousai or back to Edo, and Kaoru. She stores up her words, promising that she will speak them eventually.

 

_I will keep myself safe for you_ , she smiles up into the cold, gray sky, _but you have to promise to do the same for me._


	15. Departure

Three months after Battousai is called by to the war in Kyoto, nearly two after Sanosuke moves into the dojo, rumors begin to race like wild fire through the streets of Edo.

 

“Did you hear?” merchants whisper over fish and tofu and salt, “the hitokiri Battousai is dead.”

 

“They killed the demon of Kyoto,” old men whisper in return, “they say he’s turned the streets into a river of blood, and now his has been added to it.”

 

“Red hair,” Sanosuke, in turn, whispers with several of his back alley spies, “a cross shaped scar, are you _sure_ it was him?”

 

They are all sure.

 

Kaoru is...numb. She changes from her kimono to her practice clothing, kneels in the middle of the dojo her father built, and bows her head. She does not practice. She does not cry. She does not do _anything_ , because she simply has no will.

 

Her mother died with a knife in her throat when men were still howling about beginning the war. Her father died in Kyoto, an unnamed hero that saved eleven good men before his insides were spilled across a dark, bloody street. And now her husband is dead, a patriot of a new era that he will not get to see, and they call him a _demon_.

 

“We don’t know for sure,” Sanosuke insists with a hollow sort of desperation. “They said this a few years back, too, you know. That Kenshin was dead. Obviously that was a lie.”

 

Kaoru does not answer; her strength has abandoned her when she needs it most.

 

“We have to believe in him,” Sanosuke insists. “He’s too strong to die in this damn war. Okay? All right? Just don’t give up hope.”

 

“I want him brought home.” Kaoru's voice is startling. It is...empty, even to her own ears. “That is the least he deserves. Can you do this for me, Sanosuke?”

 

“He ain’t dead.” Sanosuke sounds impossibly broken – he sounds like a little boy, the one that hides _behind_ his drinking and gambling and swearing. “Don’t talk like that, jou-chan.”

 

“Please,” Kaoru repeats, “can you do this for me? I’ll go get him if I have to. He wanted a home, Sano, and that is here. With me. He’ll have it now.”

 

“ _Jou-chan_ -”

 

“ _Please_!” Kaoru balls her hands into fists, pressing them hard against her stomach as she bends forward, nearly knocking her forehead into her knees as the world swims violently around her. “ _Please, Sano,_ _ **please**_! _Bring him_ _ **home**_!”

 

“Okay.” Sanosuke’s voice cracks like a fallen tree. “I’ll bring him home, jou-chan.”

 

“Promise me,” Kaoru whispers, still bent in on herself.

 

“I promise.”

 

Sanosuke leaves for Kyoto the next day.


	16. Fantasy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This drabble will always be my favorite out of the series.

Kaoru practices. She cleans the dojo. She cooks, badly, and eats three times a day. She does the laundry and the shopping, and notes how strange it is that it has yet to snow. She continues living, because she has no other choice ( _I am glad you are safe, wounding you would wound my heart_ ), and she knows that as her father lived after her mother's brutal death, she will continue living after Kenshin.

 

But it hurts. It hurts every day, is a dull ache in her chest that she can’t shake off. Kaoru remembers how her father would grow quiet and withdrawn, how his eyes would empty out of everything. She had practically stood on her head to make him see her again during those times.

 

She wishes, on the seventh day after Sanosuke’s departure, that she had a child to help her recover, in the same way her father had her. Kaoru remembers the first cold days of winter, when she eyed the courtyard and imaged two or three bright haired children darting around, full of cheer and laughter.

 

It is stupid, she thinks, that the first time she cries, it isn’t for her dead husband, but for the children they never even had a chance to have. Like the hopes of a peaceful era, they are a beautiful, intangible fantasy Kaoru will always remember with love.


	17. Strange

Dr. Gensai comes more and more often in the weeks after Sanosuke leaves for Kyoto.

 

“Your husband,” he finally mentions, eyes to the side and a polite smile on his face. “What a strange looking man. Red hair! And that scar of his!”

  
“You can ask me.” Kaoru grants him a slight smile, because he is old and a family friend, because he has never been anything but kind to her. “If you really want to know.”

 

“Is he?” Dr. Gensai asks quietly. “Is he the demon of Kyoto?”

 

“My husband,” Kaoru’s voice is colder than the snow falling from the over full clouds so far above them in the sky, “is _no_ demon.”

 

“I –” Dr. Gensai pauses, sitting back and blinking at her. Kaoru’s jaw clinches so tightly it hurts, and she stares resolutely into her still steaming tea. “I meant no disrespect, Kaoru-chan. He seemed a nice young man when I met him.”

 

“He is,” Kaoru says, before swallowing hard. “He was.”

 

“That is the reason I asked,” he continues gently, “are the rumors true? Is he...?”

 

“Dead? It seems so.” Tears! Of all times, _now_ she has tears for the man! “One of his friends has gone to bring him home – for me –” Kaoru puts a hand over her mouth, closes her hands and breathes deeply.

She is the assistant master of the Kamiya Kasshin-ryu. She is not going to cry in front of Dr. Gensai. She is not going to fall apart. She is _stronger_ than this.

 

“You weren’t married long,” Dr. Gensai speaks kindly, his age and experience placing heavy weight on his words. “And I know that your father arranged the match, but it is obvious you cared for him. I’m so sorry for your loss, Kaoru-chan. Please, let me know when his friend brings him home. I would like to see him off.”

 

“Thank you, Dr. Gensai,” Kaoru manages to squeeze out past her tight throat. “That would mean quite a lot to me.”

 

“And if you need anything – anything at _all_ – you’ll let me know, won’t you?”

 

“Of course. Thank you.”


	18. Homecoming

Sanosuke returns in the middle of the night. Kaoru can hear him – the now familiar pattern of his footsteps, the timbre of his voice as he mutters to himself – and while it has woken Kaoru, she is frozen. She lies on her futon, hands together beside her face, jaw tightly clinched as tears began to leak from the corners of her eyes.

 

After all this time, Kaoru knows that Kenshin is not going to be entirely Kenshin, though she has often prayed that the cold weather has slowed the inevitable decay. She will wash his body as best she can, wrap him in white, and when the ground thaws she will bury him next to her parents.

 

But if she lies under her warm quilts, crying into her hair – if she stays here just a little longer, then it doesn’t _have_ to be real yet.

 

Kaoru is so upset she doesn’t hear Sanosuke approach until the shoji opens, cold air blows in, and he steps inside. He shuts the door behind him, walking carefully. No doubt he thinks she is still asleep, and wants to wake her gently.

 

Maybe, if she stays quiet, closes her eyes and doesn’t move, he won’t press. Maybe it can all wait until morning. He will rest, she will hide, and with the dawn she can...she will...

 

The quilt lifts. Kaoru jerks in surprise – starting to sit up, planning on jamming her elbow so hard into Sanosuke’s throat that he won’t be able to talk for a damn month – but she goes rigid and still when a hushed voice says,

 

“It’s just me.”

 

He slides under the warm quilt, pulls it up to their shoulders, and wraps an arm around her waist. The other he wedges under Kaoru's head, tugging her against him. He smells like cold air, dried sweat, and hard travel. He is _freezing_ – his toes and hands feel like ice.

 

Kaoru opens her mouth to – to say _something_ , though she doesn’t know what, when her chest seizes, her lungs lock, and she sobs so hard it _hurts_. The arms around her tighten, and a sharp nose presses behind her ear, all cold flesh and hot breath.

 

“I thought –” Kaoru tries to get out, and fails. “I thought – I thought you were –”

 

“I know.” Kenshin lifts a hand, smooths stray hair away from Kaoru's face. “Sano told me.”

 

Kaoru wiggles around until she faces him. She clings to Kenshin as tears come, hiding her face in his neck and fairly _wailing_. He props his chin on the top of her head and lets her weep, rocking them back-and-forth, his grip on her nearly as tight as the one she has on him.

 

The gratitude Kaoru feels knows no bounds. It is so great and overwhelming that she will never, _never_ , be able to describe it. He is alive, he is safe and alive and –

 

“Thank you,” she finally manages to choke out, “thank you, thank you, thank you...”

 

“For what?” Kenshin asks, one hand busy working her hair free of it's nightly braid.

 

“For not being dead.” The crying begins all over again as she admits, out loud, that he is _alive_. “For coming home, and for not leaving me.”

 

It is a good deal of time later that Kaoru is lulled back to sleep by Kenshin's heartbeat and the warmth of his body, his arms around her and the heady knowledge that he will be there when she wakes.


	19. Calm

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ain't married life grand, folks? ;)

Kaoru wakes to find Kenshin with his juban and kimono around his waist, mouth pinched in a hard line as he unravels a set of bandages (gray from overuse and long travel) from around his stomach. A mean, puckered slash starts on the left side of his ribs and crawls towards his opposite hip, and looking at it, Kaoru realizes that there is a very real reason why the rumors proclaim Battousai to be dead.

 

“What _happened_ to you?” Kaoru can’t keep her voice low, can’t pretend to be calm because here is undeniable proof that his death could been horrifying real. Swollen up and an ugly red, if it isn’t infected yet, it will be soon. Kaoru knows that if infection sets in and spreads there is little chance...

 

Kaoru nearly falls over she is in such a hurry to remove herself from the quilts and reach his side. The floor is freezing against her bare feet but she pays it no mind, sinking down beside him and slapping his hands away. He drops the bandages obligingly, hands hovering awkwardly in the air before he presses his palms to the floor behind him, leaning back.

 

Kaoru does not miss his wince as he completes the motion.

 

“Why,” she pushes out between tightly gritted teeth, “didn’t you tell me about this last night?”

 

“You were upset,” answers Kenshin quietly, watching Kaoru's face with expressionless gold eyes. “I didn’t want to worry you.”

 

“You _idiot_!” Kaoru can’t hold her shriek in, she just _can’t_. Her finger jabs the air in front of his face several times as she makes wordless, animal noises of anger deep in the back of her throat, unable to speak past her horror, guilt, and fear. “You’re hurt! You traveled all the way from Kyoto like this? You – I –y _ou_!”

 

“Kaoru...” his eyes turn to a pale purple, hints of blue and amber swirling around his pupils, blinking at her in quiet alarm. “It’s not as bad as it looks. Calm down and –”

 

“I _am_ calm!” roars Kaoru, tossing her hands into the air above her head. “I spent the last month under the impression my husband was dead, only to have him come home in the middle of the night, but _then_ I find out that he’s nearly cut in half! _I’m so calm that other wives are_ _ **envious**_ _of my control!_ ”

 

“Yes,” Kenshin agrees after a moment of silence and what might almost be a smile, but absolutely isn’t because Kaoru swears if he laughs at her right now she _will_ be burying him after all. “I’m very sorry for suggesting otherwise, Kaoru.”

 

“You better be!” Kaoru hisses, tossing herself to her feet and marching for her kimono rack. Practice clothing it will be today; she normally doesn’t wear it to town unless she is heading to another dojo, but it is the quickest dressing option.

 

“Kaoru!” Kenshin’s voice cracks in a fair parody of Sanosuke’s as she begins to strip. “What are you –”

 

“Someone has to go get Dr. Gensai,” she snaps, “and Sanosuke just got back from bringing you home, I’m not waking him up.”

 

If Kenshin whimpers a quiet _oro_ about the time Kaoru’s yukata drops, she firmly ignores it.


	20. Curiosity

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dum dum duuuuum! *plays pipe organ...menacingly*

“Stop hovering, jou-chan,” Sanosuke rumbles fondly at Kaoru, clapping one hand to her back. He exerts more than enough pressure to move her, and Kaoru stumbles. “Can you blame the guy for being so tired?”

 

“I can’t help it!” Nearly crying, Kaoru tosses her hands in the air before pressing the heals of her palms against her eyes. She allows Sanosuke to be her guide while she is so blinded. “He’s been home two days, and he’s been asleep since Dr. Gensai left. Shouldn’t he eat? I should wake him up to eat, shouldn’t I?”

 

“Nah.” Sanosuke casually brushes away her worry, which is coming close to hysteria the longer Kenshin remains sleeping, one forearm slung across his eyes and his mouth open to release squeaking snores. In their short marriage Kaoru has never seen him sleep so deeply, or with such abandon. “He doesn’t rest real well in Kyoto, and the trip back here was real hard on him.

 

“You know,” Sanosuke continues, “it actual proves how much he trusts us, and how much he thinks of the dojo as his home. He don’t rest like this in Kyoto, never has. He can’t, you know? But he knows he’s safe here.”

 

“Have you been with him in Kyoto?” Kaoru asks, almost unwilling to question Kenshin’s past, even if it is not to him directly. It is not that she does _not_ want to know – her curiosity is nearly bone crushing in its magnitude and weight – it is that she knows how much Kenshin does not want to talk about it. It seems that, when they are together, his deepest desire is to erase his past entirely, to make a clean start where his past casts no shadows on his future.

 

Kaoru knows that such a wish is a fruitless one; his past will always be a part of him, and part of whatever future they have together.

 

“I met him in Kyoto,” offers Sanosuke after a moment, head ducked down. He gives her a sideways look. “Hasn’t he told you anything? About his past, I mean.”

 

“Nothing,” Kaoru admits, and it is painful to do so. “He told me his name, and his age; he practices Hiten Mitsurugi-ryu, and that is all he’s shared.”

 

“I’ll tell you about it,” Sanosuke says, not quite looking at Kaoru. “How about that? You make us some tea first, though.”

 

“Should...” Kaoru falters a moment. It frustrates her – almost makes her angry – that she feels she cannot even ask her friend the details of how he met her her husband without worrying she might in some way offend or upset Kenshin. Damn that man and his very pretty head, but she isn’t going to spend the rest of her life tipping toeing around what he might not want to talk about.

 

She won’t push _him_...but that doesn’t mean she can’t share a conversation with Sanosuke. And if they happened to discuss a time in Sanosuke’s life that involves Kenshin, well, there is no betrayal in that.

 

“Yeah,” Sanosuke tells her, his voice as sturdy as an old maple tree. “We should, jou-chan. There’s a lot you don’t know yet.”


	21. Evil

“That’s why I wear ‘evil’ on my back. I’m not just being ironic.” Sanosuke offers Kaoru a bare, fleeting smile, one that is dark and filled with the memories of old monsters. Kaoru can’t manage to give him one in return, as her mind is full of a little Sanosuke crying in front of the severed head of Sagara Sozo.

 

“I ended up staying in Kyoto,” Sanosuke continues after a pause, in which he takes a long sip of tea. “I was just plain angry at everyone...the Ishin Shishi and the Tokugawa, even plain people who were caught in the middle. Didn’t seem right to me that Captain Sagara was dead, and all these other people were still alive.

 

“I figure I’d die fighting in Kyoto eventually. That was fine with me...that was what I wanted, really. And I was ready to get that wish, found some goons with swords and started a fight. Next thing I knew, I was about to have my head lobbed off when Kenshin came out of no where. He saved my life, and I wasn’t real happy about that; it kind of defeated my whole idea of bravely following my comrades into the afterlife. I ran away from him that night, but we kept running into each other...mostly when I was in trouble. Sometimes he would take me to get some food, or give me some money. Other times he’d just tell me to go find a nice family to take care of me.”

 

“He really is kind,” says Kaoru as Sanosuke’s words lapse for a moment. He smiles at her, eyes warm. “No one would believe how good he is.”

 

“He is one of the best men I’ve ever known,” Sanosuke announces firmly. “I guess probably three months after I first met him he found me hiding in some garbage. I’d been beat up by some real tough guys, you know the kind, gotta prove how big they are by sticking it to some big mouthed kid that don’t know no better, ‘cause they ain’t got the balls to face a real man.”

 

“You have such a way with words,” Kaoru dryly recognizes, lips twitching in a grin. Sanosuke flushes but shrugs.

 

“What? It’s the truth. I had the shit beat outta me, before Kenshin saved me again. He carried me back to the inn he was staying at then, and took care of me. I was a real brat once I started getting better, but I knew I wouldn’t have it better anywhere else, so I stayed. That was about eight years ago, now.”

 

Sanosuke pauses, fiddling with his tea cup, brow furrowed. He opens and closes his mouth several times, scowling so deeply wrinkles form beside his mouth. Kaoru waits for him to find the words, unwilling to rush or prod him.

 

“Now that I look back on it,” he finally continues, looking up to pin Kaoru with a gaze so intense it locks Kaoru’s limbs in place. “We saved each other. He finished raising me, even though we were in the middle of a war, and was in a bad place himself. Kenshin took care of me just because he’s a good guy. He said he wanted to use his two hands to save a life instead of take. That’s why I do what I do now; I ain’t just some gambler or fighter, jou-chan. I’m an information runner. Not for the Ishin Shishi, not for the shogunate - I do my work for Kenshin directly. We might not have the same views on everything, but we want the same thing; this war to end. Peace, and our country to be reunited.

 

“’Course, he didn’t just save me,” Sanosuke’s gaze only gains intensity, and the hair on Kaoru's arms and the back of her neck lifts as shiver of worry (perhaps even fear) crawls down her spine. “He needed someone to take care of – someone to save. A few months before he saved me, he lost his first wife, Tomoe.”

 

Kaoru cannot breathe.


	22. Sake

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In retrospect, I realize that Sanosuke's guide to having a heart-to-heart with your best friend follows my own. 1) Get drunk 2) Cry about whatever is causing the angst 3) Possible fist fight 4) Pass out 5) Bond of over greasy hangover breakfast/lunch the next day.

Kaoru feels hurt and betrayed, even though she knows she should be above such pettiness. But she is young, she has to admit, and she has never felt for anyone the way she feels for Kenshin. She does not like sharing him in any way, does not pretend to be anything other than hurt and terrified that she is nothing more than a replacement for a dead wife lost in the horror of the war.

 

Hadn’t she wondered, several times, why he chose to marry her? They had never met before her father’s death, never shared even letter. So why? Why else, other than to live out the life he was denied with his first wife?

 

Kaoru’s heart bleeds.

 

“Jou-chan,” Sanosuke nearly begs, “Don’t cry! Just listen, all right? You need to understand this if you want to understand him. Okay?”

 

Now Sanosuke tells Kaoru a story. One that will haunt her until her dying breath; it is a tragedy beyond the scope and breadth of anything Kaoru can imagine living through. She is starkly reminded of the first night Kenshin came to sleep on their – on _her_ – futon.

 

_I don’t want to kill you, too,_ she can hear him again, the tears in his voice and on his face, _I don’t want to kill you -_ _ **Kaoru**_ -

 

“Oh, Sano...” she whispers after he finishes telling her the story of Kenshin’s ill-fated first marriage, Tomoe’s willingness to die to save him, and the completion of his cross scar. She can clearly imagine the snow stained with the other woman’s blood, and it reminds her of the horror, guilt, and overwhelming sorrow she had felt when she thought Kenshin was dead.

 

“I know,” he almost whispers in return, lowering his eyes. “It’s not easy to hear.”

 

For a time they are quiet, each lost in their thoughts. The remainder of the tea grows cold, though neither notices.

 

“Why did he marry me?” she finally asks, her voice raw, like the wound across her husband stomach. “Why would he...if he...”

 

“We both knew your dad...and all Koshijirou talked about was you.” Kaoru’s head jerks upright at this new revelation, her eyes widening.

 

“Both of you?” she questions, eyebrows lifting. “You knew my father?”

 

“We met in Kyoto,” Sanosuke confirms. “I was running information to Kenshin from Edo, and your father happened to be one of the men I was getting information from. Kenshin ended up saving his life. There aren’t a lot of people we can entirely trust, but Koshijirou...he was a good, honest guy. He just wanted this war to end, as well. And him and Kenshin...” Sanosuke shrugs, looking back up to her.

 

“Koshijirou and Kenshin both lost their wives to this war, both in real tragic ways. They understood each other, I guess. But what Kenshin didn’t have was a daughter – you. Gods, jou-chan, the way that man went on, it was like you were perfection from on high, a gift from the gods. We heard about until it was like we _knew_ you; your temper, your bad cooking, your blue eyes, even your talent in kenjutsu.

 

“Koshijirou planned on arranging a marriage between you and Kenshin even if he lived.” Sanosuke’s words hit Kaoru like a fist to the gut, and she gapes at him, breathless and startled.

 

“ _What_?”

 

“Kenshin didn’t see no problem with you practicing kenjutsu,” Sanosuke gives her a pointed look. “You know a lot of men that would be willing to have their wives in hakama, and fully able to stand up to them in a fight if he came home drunk and heavy handed? Kenshin liked the thought of a woman being able to protect herself...he like _everything_ Koshijirou had to say about you. You seemed like a...like a warm summer after a long, bitter winter. Kenshin seemed real taken with you, and Koshijirou knew it.

 

“He wanted you to be happy and well taken care of, and he knew you would be both with Kenshin. And he wanted Kenshin happy, with the home and family he always longed for...he knew you’d give him that, too. So even if things had gone differently, we’d probably still ended up here, just with a different path behind us.”

 

“Why didn’t he ever tell me this?” Kaoru asks, blinking back tears. “Either of them?”

 

“Your dad couldn’t walk around talking about the Battousai, could he?” Sanosuke gives her a rather wry look. “That would kinda blow the top off what we were doing. And Kenshin, well, he ain’t real big on sharing.”

 

“How did you get him to share so much with you, then, if he ‘ain’t real big on sharing?’”

 

“Sake,” Sanosuke reveals, a broad smile breaking across his face. “Lots and lots of sake.”


	23. Dreams

Kaoru is quiet as she slips back into the room she shares with Kenshin, shedding her clothing and pulling on a yukata. She brushes her hair in the light of one small candle, silent and contemplative. Her fingers work without thought to braid the heavy length while she stares at Kenshin, unsure of her feelings. They are so tangled and twisted that she doesn't know how even to begin unraveling them.

 

It shames Kaoru to admit that she is jealous of a dead woman. Though on the other hand, she feels an instant and undeniable kinship towards Kenshin’s first wife, the ill-fated Tomoe. If it came down to herself or her husband, Kaoru would choose to save Kenshin no matter the cost. And if someone murdered Kenshin...

 

For a woman who has always believed she would never take another life, it is terrifying to realize that she would hunt down Kenshin’s murderer, and take his life without a single second thought. Unlike Tomoe-san, who was a proper lady (Kaoru cringes as she thinks of how different they must be), Kaoru has the ability to extract whatever revenge she might seek out with her own two hands; she is much weaker than Sanosuke and certainly Kenshin, but there are few other men who have half a hope of standing against her.

 

Kaoru would kill for him. She would even die for him.

 

When she slips under the warm quilts beside Kenshin, he rolls into her, draping an arm around her waist and nuzzling his nose into the curve of her neck. He curls around her as though he has spent his entire life doing so –

 

Kaoru hates herself for wondering who he thinks he holds in his sleep.

 

“Kaoru?” Kenshin's voice is thick and rasping, his hair a snarled halo around his pale features as he lifts his head, blinking at her with dark violet eyes. “Are you okay?”

 

“I’m fine.” She can’t help but smile, threading her fingers through Kenshin's. “I'm just going to sleep.”

 

“Hmmm...” Head dropping back down, he sighs contentedly. Squeezing her waist and hand both, Kenshin is soft and limber with ease and pleasure, making Kaoru’s heart warm and swell. “I can’t seem to stay awake...”

 

“You don’t have to,” she assures him, “go back to sleep. You _need_ to rest, you idiot. You push yourself too hard, and this is the end result.”

 

“Mmhmm...” he hums wordlessly, and Kaoru bites back a laugh as she realizes he probably has no idea what he has just agreed with.

 

In the ensuing silence, as her husband drifts back into his much needed, healing sleep, Kaoru continues to ponder what Sanosuke's tale, as well as her own feelings. It will take time, she is forced to admit, to resolve her new fears concerning Tomoe-san, but she already has to admit she does not think she is entirely a replacement for the other woman.

 

Perhaps in the beginning...but there is too much between she and Kenshin – _just_ between them alone – to truly believe he is using her to fulfill the life he was not able to have with her. Even if it motivated him in the beginning, it does not negate the tenderness he has shown her, and it certainly does not change her feelings for him.

 

“Good night,” Kaoru mutters quietly and fondly, twisting to brush her lips across his forehead. “You idiot man.”

 

Kaoru falls asleep easily, lulled by Kenshin’s warmth and soft, even breathing. While she dreams of a black eyed woman kissing her cheeks and calling her sister, she is unaware of Kenshin opening his eyes and watching her. One trembling hand lifts to brush across her lips and down her neck, wonder painted across his face.

 

(She does not know that when he succumbs to the exhaustion of his wounded body, not very long after she does, that he dreams of a hot summer, cold water, and Kaoru sleeping naked beside him. The rosy flush of love making lingers on her cheeks and the pink tips of her breasts, and her taste is sweet in his mouth.)


	24. Morning

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter wouldn't be here, as it is, if it wasn't for the beautiful artwork of amie689. I'm sure you'll know which piece in particular I drew inspiration from when you see it. :) (Everyone, go fangirl her on deviantart! She's amazing!)

Kaoru wakes in slow degrees, still limp and warm and comfortable, her eyes yet unopened while the last remains of her dreams lurk in the corners of her mind. A soft, contented hum leaves the back of her throat as fingers dig into the thick mass of her hair, deftly unwinding the braid that she wears nightly. Said fingers pause, curling into a pleasant caress against her scalp before they continue downwards.

 

“What are you doing?” Kaoru’s voice is thick, heavy, and slow with her recent sleep as she questions the husband she has yet to actually look at this morning.

 

“I like your hair loose,” Kenshin admits softly, as though afraid his voice might break the still peace of the cold morning. The remains of Kaoru’s braid is swept out, and he begins to arrange it down her back and across her shoulder, sweeping his fingers through it, root to tip, several times.

 

Smiles as she opens her eyes, one hand works its way out from under the quilt to cover her mouth as Kaoru yawns. Kenshin is smiling at her, two fingers busy curling a thick length of her dark hair.

 

“Kaoru?” questions Kenshin, a few moments after Kaoru begins to drift back to sleep.

 

“Hmm?”

 

“Are you happy?” His question – unexpected to say the least – prompts Kaoru to crack her eyes open. He has his gaze anchored on her hair and his hand, perhaps even the curve of her ear or line of her jaw.

 

“Yes,” Kaoru answers slowly and (to the surprise of the girl she had been in the two weeks preceding her wedding) honestly. “I’m happy. When you’re home I’m even happier.”

 

“It wasn’t fair to marry you while I’m still...” Kenshin pauses, seeming to struggle for words, “While I’m still honor bound to fight in Kyoto.”

 

“I would rather things happened as they have, than not have happened at all.” says Kaoru firmly, though it takes her a moment to bring up the courage to speak the rest of the words that rest heavy on her tongue. “I care for you,” she admits quietly.

 

Kenshin's eyes widen as his hand stills in her hair, and Kaoru’s heart pauses a moment.

 

“I care deeply for you, and I wouldn’t trade the marriage we have now for any other I might have had after my father died.”

 

The silence between them is heavy and thick. Kaoru feels the blush burning her cheeks and neck, worry and embarrassment scalding her chest and up the back of her throat. She has said too much, she thinks, horrified to feel tears burning her eyes.

 

“Oh, Kaoru...” Kenshin whispers, dropping his hand from her hair to curl around the side of her neck. The smile he blesses her with is tender, expression luminous as he leans into her. Kenshin kisses her so gently that Kaoru feels as though he believes she is as easily bruised as flower petals. It steals her breath.

 

And that is when the first bomb goes off.


	25. Little Boys

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter gives me the lulz forever.

“But Kenshin...” Sanosuke is whining loudly, messy hair flopping in his eyes, while melting snow creates patches through his clothing. “We were just messing around!”

 

“There are _fields._ ” Kenshin is a study in exasperation with one hand flung outwards, gesturing towards said wilderness. “River banks, or woods. You two aren’t blowing up the dojo.”

 

“We wouldn’t blow up the _dojo._ ” The rather handsome young man with Sanosuke gives Kenshin a wide smile. “We know better than that.”

 

“You are not dropping bombs down the well.” Kenshin decrees flatly, folding his arms across his chest, even as he levels with them a look that Kaoru’s father had often worn. Both Sanosuke’s and the other man’s shoulders slump, and – as a united pair – they lock mournful eyes on the scowling Kenshin.

 

“But jou-chan always wants the ice broken off the top,” Sanosuke attempts hopefully, “and they’re _little_ bombs –”

 

“Very little,” his friend agrees, heading bobbing vigorously. “Barely a boom at all.”

 

“No.”

 

“Told you he wouldn’t let us,” Sanosuke’s long haired friend mutters to Sano, both of them fidgeting like two children caught behaving badly. Which, Kaoru admits, isn’t too far from the truth.

 

“He never lets us do fun stuff.”

 

“We’re adults,” Sanosuke mouths back. “Don’t see why we have to listen to him anymore.”

 

Despite his large claims, both men shuffle off, a distinctively sullen air about them.

 

“ _What._..” Kaoru starts to ask, before blinking and shaking her head. “ _Who..._ ”

 

“Katsu,” Kenshin says simply, before slanting a sideways look at her. “You’ve heard of Tsukioka Tsunan, I assume? The artist?” He waits for her nod of confirmation.

 

“He and Sanosuke are old friends,” Kenshin pauses, a small but warm smile pulling at the corners of his mouth. “I met both of them when they were just boys in Kyoto. Katsu has always had an unfortunate fondness for explosives.”

 

“But the _well –_ why would they want to toss bombs down our _well_?”

 

“Little boys,” says Kenshin knowing, a faint smile playing at his mouth, “have very little common sense when it comes to things that catch fire and make loud noises.”

 

That is when Kaoru realizes that despite the trust Kenshin places in Sanosuke, he does not see the brash younger man as a man at all. Instead Kenshin still views him as a little boy that he half-raised amid blood and war and, apparently, quite a few incidents involving explosives.

 


	26. Bundle

“Kenshin!” Sanosuke nearly tears the fusuma off its rails getting inside Kenshin and Kaoru’s room. Kaoru gapes at him, hands hovering in the air in front of her, while Kenshin does much the same. His fingers are still tangled in her hair.

 

Sanosuke is bedraggled, grimy, and blood stained. Panic coats his words as he shouts, “Kaoru! I need some help in here!”

 

“Sanosuke?” Kenshin questions, dropping Kaoru’s hair and rising to his feet in one smooth motion. Kaoru quickly follows his lead. “What’s wrong?”

 

“He’s bleeding pretty bad,” Sanosuke rumbles quickly and with obvious agitation. “This – just come on, I need some help. Katsu’s bringing Dr. Gensai.”

 

“Who’s bleeding? Are _you_ all right?” asks Kaoru, even as she takes up the lantern. Following Sanosuke as he guides them to the main room of her – their – home, Kaoru feels as though her heart has become painfully lodged in her throat..

 

Kenshin remains a few paces behind, having taken a moment to grab his sword.

 

“I’m fine,” Sanosuke brushes the inquiry off without pause – though Kaoru can see that his knuckles are split, and his hair is dark and stiffening with blood, no doubt from a head wound he isn’t going to admit to having. “It’s the little guy I’m worried about.”

 

“Oh, God,” Kaoru breathes in surprise, her feet faltering as one hand rises to her mouth. She darts a look behind her, taking in Kenshin’s narrow, tense face as he quickly passes her by.

 

There is a rather small bundle of rags, dirt, and blood sprawled across the tatami. A bundle that is obviously an under nourished, badly wounded child. Kenshin waves one hand over his shoulder as he sinks onto his knees, leaning over the smaller figure to access the damage. “Kaoru, bring that light over here.”

 

Kaoru is quick to obey him, her heart in her throat as she kneels, holding the light high enough to do some good. Tears spring into her eyes as she takes in the sight of a young boy, gaunt and pale, lips nearly blue, his breath a gurgling rasp deep in his chest.

 

“Some bastards were beating the shit out of this kid.” Sanosuke begins to pace, unable to stand still. “Katsu and I stepped in as soon as we saw it, but they had already done a real number on him. I couldn’t just _leave_ him.”

 

“Of course not!” Kaoru reaches out her free hand, gently covering the boy’s cheek. He is already feverish, and worry ties her stomach into a hard knot.

 

“Sanosuke, we need water so we can clean him up.” Kenshin gives the order quietly, without looking up. His hands are busy stripping the boy, his eyes growing dark and mean with every inch of abused flesh that he reveals. “We can do that now, before Dr. Gensai and Katsu arrive. Bring bandages, as well. A few of the smaller wounds I can bind myself.

 

“Get my wakizashi, Kaoru,” Kenshin’s voice is cold – colder than Kaoru has ever heard it, and there is rage flickering in his yellow eyes. “We’re going to have to cut his clothes off.”

 

By the time Dr. Gensai arrives they have stripped the boy and laid him out on a spare futon Kaoru brought out. He is free of the worst of the dirt, his dark head resting in Kaoru’s lap when begins to mutter fitfully, moaning as Sanosuke holds his legs down and Kenshin bandages a shallow but freely bleeding slash across his lower thigh.

 

“Himura-san,” Katsu murmurs quietly to Kaoru, resting the tips of his fingers against her shoulder. “Why don’t we step outside?”

 

Dr. Gensai brings out a needle and threat, heating needle in the flame of a candle.

 

“No, thank you.” Kaoru does not look up. Instead she lays one hand across the boy’s forehead. “I’m staying with him.”

 

“Jou-chan,” Sanosuke half begs, “come on. You don’t need to see this.”

 

“No.” Kaoru’s voice is firm, brooking no amount of argument. Kenshin looks to her, expressionless, and she gives him the same stubborn glare she gives Sanosuke. “I’m not leaving him.”

 

“Mother,” the boy whimpers once, eyes fluttering open, though they do not seem to see anything. “Mother!”

 

“Shh,” Kaoru whispers, bending further over him, as though her body can shield him from the pain. “It’s all right.”

 

“ _Mother_!” The child sobs, and Kaoru’s tears splatter onto his grimacing face as the needle pierces the skin of his right side.


	27. Steam

The child cries fitfully for his mother on and off through the night. He begs her not to cry, and later, not to die; he weeps and clings to Kaoru’s hands, and Kaoru cries with him.

 

Kenshin watches silently, back against the wall and fire in his eyes. He does not ask Kaoru, not even once, to leave the boy and rest. She is grateful that he knows her well enough to understand it is going to take something dramatic and possibly life threatening to remove her from the child’s side.

 

“I just don’t know,” Dr. Gensai tells them before he leaves, exhaustion circling his eyes and weighing down his voice. “He’s lost a lot of blood, and he’s already weak. He’s got an infection in his lungs, he’s half starved...” There is no need for him to finish.

 

“Thank you,” Kaoru says quietly, “For doing all you can.”

 

Kaoru dozes, fitfully, just after dawn. Kenshin sits behind her, one arm around her waist, her head dropped back on his shoulder. She wakes when the boy begins to cough, which rapidly turns to choking; with Kenshin’s help she sits him up, his slight frame supported between two of them as his eyes roll under his thin eyelids, and thick mucus, green with infection and brown with blood, is expelled from his lungs.

 

“Keep him up.” Kaoru has to use Kenshin’s shoulder to stand – her legs are tingling and numb from sitting so long – after too long of listening to the nameless boy choke and gag and cough until his cheeks turn a mottled red and purple. “I’ll be back in a moment.”

 

It takes too long to get a fire lit in the kitchen, and for the water to boil. Once it does, Kaoru pours the scalding liquid in a large bowl that has an herbal mixture waiting in it, before wrapping it in two thick towels and carrying it out. All of her movements are ginger and careful (it wouldn’t do to drop it and burn herself, she doesn’t think Sanosuke would ever stop teasing her) and she is even more careful as she sits.

 

“Help me with this, please,” asks Kaoru, drawing Kenshin's immediate assistance.

 

Kenshin uses one hand to help her with a quilt, which Kaoru drapes over the child’s head and shoulders – the back tucked between his body and Kenshin’s chest – the other over her own head, to create a small tent. The edges puddle on the floor as Kaoru leans forward, elbows on her thighs, one hand against the edge of the bowl; the other holds tight to the boy’s hand.

 

The steam fills the little area quickly, and Kaoru begins to sweat. The herbal mixture in the water is pungent, making her eyes water, but she endures.

 

She remembers being small, her mother and father doing the same for her, when fever riddled her body and infection clawed it’s way into her lungs. Like her mother had for her, she sings to the boy. Her voice wavers and wobbles with her exhaustion, but she remembers being small and sick and scared; a soft, tired voice guided her from the darkness, and she hopes her own might do the same for this lost child.

 

She wipes spittle and mucus from his mouth, rubs his shoulders or painfully straining stomach when a coughing fit takes him. She passes Kenshin soiled cloths, and when the water cools she tugs the quilt off, gasping for fresh air, her hair sweat soaked and sticking to her flushed face.

 

“When he starts coughing hard again we’ll steam him a second time,” she tells Kenshin, her eyes drooping. “But for now lay him on his side. He might rest a while since the coughing as calmed down.”

 

“Kaoru...” Kenshin catches her arm before she can rise, thumb rubbing over the thin skin on the inside her wrist. She is surprised that he can make her heart jump even when she is exhausted and so very worried. “Do you know how very good you are?”

 

She doesn’t quite know how to answer that, her mouth opening and closing several times.

 

“No better than you,” she finally settles on, offering him a tired smile. “You’re helping him, too.”

 

“But you –” Kenshin stops, shaking his head slowly back and forth, though he never takes his eyes away from her face. “You’re so _good_ , Kaoru. You’re truly good.”

 

“I’m doing what anyone would do,” Kaoru insists. “I can’t think of anyone who would turn him away. He’s sick, and hurt, and all alone. What was I going to do, have Sanosuke toss him out in the snow?”

 

Baffled by Kenshin’s surprise – what does he think she is, a monster? – she pulls out of his grasp, carrying away both the bowl of the herbal mixture and the other containing the boy’s spit up. Katsu is kind enough to take both from her, though he is heavy eyed and tired looking, braving the cold and snow to dump them out.


	28. Parting Shots

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Exhaustion from staying up with a sick child provokes all kinds of craziness. After one particular night with an eight month old that was both teething and suffering from a cold to end all colds, I put my cell phone in a bowl of leftover rice, and put it in the fridge. Took me like twenty minutes to remember, "Hey, dumbass, phones don't go in your food, OR the fridge."

After the first day, the men move the child into Kenshin and Kaoru’s room. Katsu lays out the spare futon beside their larger one, and Sanosuke lays the boy down. Kaoru fusses over his quilts, tucking him in and worrying over how how she should cover him – to the chin or just under his arms? – before Sanosuke slaps at her hands.

 

“It’s fine,” he half grumbles and half laughs. “You worry too much.”

 

It is probably the exhaustion, but it makes Kaoru’s temper – never well held, anyways – flare up in a bright flame.

 

“Asshole!” she snarls. Kaoru punches Sanosuke so hard in the shoulder that it gives the _crack_ of a dislocated joint, while her fist burns hot before turning numb from the shock of the impact.

 

Sanosuke whimpers, eyes widening as he tumbles from a kneeling position to an ungraceful sprawl on his butt, cursing under his breath when he unthinkingly attempts to catch his weight on the arm of his own dislocated shoulder.

 

“Are you _laughing_ at me?” Kaoru demands, vibrating with frustration.

 

“You’re _terrifying_ ,” Katsu says approvingly, before he elbows Kenshin and gives him a _manly_ sort of look, one that is part leer and approval. “And feisty! You know what they say about the feisty ones, don’t you? Eh? _Eh_?”

 

Kenshin thumbs his sword upwards, giving Katsu a narrow glare. The younger man giggles like a little boy.

 

“Katsuhiro,” says Kenshin in the quiet way of a large animal who offers no second chances, “that is no way to talk about my wife.”

 

“Sorry,” Katsu is still giggling helplessly, flapping both hands in the air. “Sorry! I didn’t – I’m so _tired_ – I can’t think!”

 

“ _Ow_ ,” Sanosuke finally manages to get out. “ _Ow_! Jou-chan, you just – you –”

 

“Oh, shut up,” Kaoru grumbles. “You can pop it back in, no problem.”

 

“Well, _yeah_ , but _still_ – you hit me!”

 

“You’ve been hit tons of times!”

 

“But – but you’re a _girl_!”

 

“You wanna make something of it?” Kaoru hisses, and perhaps it is _still_ the exhaustion talking, but she has never been so close to stealing Kenshin’s sword and splitting a man open than she is in this moment.

 

Sanosuke, apparently cowed by her expression, quickly finds his feet.

 

“We’re leaving,” he announces, all indignation and wounded pride. “Come on, Katsu. Let’s get out of here before the wonder couple here kills us.”

 

“Agreed.” Katsu finds his feet, bowing deeply to Kaoru. “Sorry I...uh...said that. You know. Sometime my mouth gets in the way of my brain, and...anyway. Goodbye!”

 

“I want you home before dawn!” Kenshin calls after them, leaning forward to lock a glare on their backs as they leave. “No bringing home prostitutes!”

 

“We only did that once!” Katsu defends loudly, while Sanosuke calls,

 

“Yes, _dad_!”

 

Kaoru wheezes at the expression Kenshin wears in response to Sanosuke’s parting comment.


	29. Ugly

Myojin Yahiko is foul mouthed, surly, and (badly hidden under these things) scared to death. His father is dead, a causality of the war; his mother is dead, a causality of a hard, cruel life in which she sacrificed her own body and health to provide for her only child. He lived on the streets, stealing to stay alive, until he stole from the wrong person and wasn’t quick enough to get away.

 

That was when Katsu and Sanosuke found him.

 

“No more stealing,” Kaoru tells him firmly, while Kenshin carries a tray of food in. “Not while you’re here.”

 

“Well, I ain’t gonna be here forever, am I?” Yahiko snarls, looking like a wary animal. There is such sheer longing on his face when he sees the food that Kaoru’s heart twists for him. It reminds her of how lucky she is, despite the few trials she has faced; she has never starved, lived on the streets, _truly_ lost everything. She has a home, a kind husband who does not beat her or force himself on her (a claim not all women can make), and the freedom to practice the art that she so loves.

 

This boy has nothing.

 

“Maybe not forever,” says Kenshin, and when he kneels beside Kaoru he takes her hand. It is a small gesture, but the press of his palm to her own, the way their fingers thread together – it nearly topples her. “But for a while you will be.”

 

“What do you want in return?” Yahiko’s voice is a low, cruel rasp; a reminder that he barely survived the sickness in his chest and the blood loss.

 

“Your father was a samurai, wasn’t he?” Kenshin asks, a smile touching his lips. “You’re past the age when you should have started kenjitsu, but there’s no reason you can’t begin now. We want nothing in return but your loyalty and hard work, that’s it.”

 

“ _You’re_ going to teach me?” Yahiko eyes Kenshin’s daisho, which he wears as he has only recently come back from a trip into town.

 

“No.” Kenshin’s smile only widens as clarifies with, “My wife is.”

 

Both Kaoru and Yahiko gape at him as though he has gone mad.

 

“The Kamiya Kasshin-ryu is a proud and honorable school,” Kenshin continues blithely. “I’ve seen it used many times by the creator. Kaoru is as skilled as men I’ve fought in the war; more skilled than many, actually. You couldn’t ask for a better teacher, and I think you will become her best student.”

 

“You want that ugly _girl_ to teach me?” Yahiko looks absolutely horrified.

 

“Did – did you just call me _ugly_?” Kaoru gasps, mouth dropping open. Her hands fly to her hair, patting at it. “I might not look my best right now, but I’ll have you know it’s because I’ve been sitting up with you nearly three days, keeping your sorry butt alive!”

 

“Ugly is as ugly does. ” Yahiko mutters, though he won’t meet her gaze.

 

Kaoru hisses at him. “I’ll show you ugly, you little brat –”

 

“Eat,” Kenshin orders, cutting off the impending explosion by nearly shoving a bowl of miso into the boy’s hands. “And then a bath.”


	30. Wash

“Wash his hair well,” Kaoru orders Kenshin, not quite able to stop hovering over Yahiko as they help him stand. He is as weak as new born kitten, with wobbling legs and a loose grip. “Get behind his ears, there’s so much dirt back there I think plants might be growing.”

 

“Yes, yes.” Kenshin smiles at her, eyes soft and voice teasing as he loops a strong arm under Yahiko’s arms. “I will.”

 

“Actually...” Kaoru plucks at Yahiko’s hair, “Wash it twice. And scrub his feet, they’re _filthy_.”

 

“I can wash myself, you know!” Yahiko tries to shout, which sends him into a harsh coughing fit. Kaoru rubs between his shoulders, eyes worried.

 

“Bring him back in quickly after you’re done.” She keeps rubbing his back as Yahiko catches his breath. “I don’t want him in the cold air too long while he’s still damp. It won’t be good for him.”

 

“Do you want to come with us?” Kenshin asks rather dryly, though there is – there is _something_ in his eyes, a heavy note under his teasing that makes Kaoru’s stomach do a hard flop. “Since you seem to think I can’t get him there and back without killing him.”

 

“Eww,” Yahiko groans, head lolling on his limp neck. “No! I don’t want to see ugly _naked_!”

 

“Just you wait until I get you in the dojo,” Kaoru grumbles at Yahiko, tweaking the tip of his dirty ear. “You’re going to _think_ ugly, then.”

 

“Ugly,” Yahiko mutters after a moment of silence, making a face at her. Kenshin leads Yahiko away, and Kaoru can’t help but smile tiredly at them.

 

She can tell that Yahiko, once he is well enough to begin training, is going to be stubborn, difficult, and all mouth – but the thought of _teaching_ , again...

 

“Myojin Yahiko of the Kamiya Kasshin-ryu,” she wonders aloud, beaming. “It sounds good.”


	31. Lather

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm probably always going to hate this chapter, because it took me ages to write it. I'm still not satisfied with it. Oh well, happens to us all, doesn't it?

Yahiko is awake for only a little over two hours, which is no surprise considering how ill he was and still is. He falls back asleep well fed, toasty warm, and squeaky clean. The boy prawls on his back, legs and arms all akimbo, snoring loudly and deeply. Kaoru pets damp, fluffy hair away from his forehead and tucks the quilt around him a bit tighter before she stands.

“My turn for a bath.” She can’t keep the longing from her voice. Kenshin nods at her, eyes hidden behind his bangs. 

She gathers clothing before leaving the house and tromping down the path of packed snow to their small bath house, placing her clothing inside before she goes to stroke the fire again. Kenshin is already there, adding another log.

“Go on.” He waves her way. “I can get this.”

“Thank you.” Smiles gratefully, Kaoru is careful not to slip on the icy steps. Once inside, she sings to herself while she strips, though she has to clinch her teeth together to keep from howling when she first douses herself with the cold water. She pounds her heals a few times against the floor, holding her breath and leaning forward to get her hair wet all the way through.

She nearly falls over when the door opens, and a blast of cold air slams into her. 

“What –” Kaoru hurls the bucket, now empty, at the intruder. Pushing her wet hair out of her eyes, Kaoru is startled at the sight of Kenshin. He catches the bucket, sits it aside, and does not bother to hide the fact he is looking at her. Reaching behind him, he blindly slides the door shut.

“I thought...” he starts, but does not finish. 

Kaoru says nothing, does not move to cover herself, though she wants to. She is well aware that she and Kenshin have not...that their marriage is not consummated. The women in the village have made it quite clear that there are things to come, things that Kaoru only has a basic knowledge of.

“I thought I would help you wash, as well.” He takes one step forward, hesitating as he meets her eyes. Kenshin seems to be searching for a refusal or fear, and while Kaoru can feel a blush burning a path across her cheeks and down her neck, she does not tell him no.

He is her husband, after all, and it is bound to happen some time. 

She folds her arms in front of her chest, wet hair dangling on either side of her face and into her eyes. Giving him a nod and even a small smile, Kaoru watches as his nostrils flair, his throat convulsing as he swallows. His return nod is sharp and jerky.

Kenshin strips everything but his hakama off. Kaoru has seen all he is showing her before, but still it makes her blush, makes her hands tremble. There is something terribly different about this from every other time, when they were dressing, or she was tending his wounds.

Stepping close, Kenshin threads the fingers of one hand through her hair, gently pushing until she leans back. Kaoru’s eyes fall shut as he begins to lather her hair, blunt nails scraping against her scalp, rubbing the length of her hair between his palms. He washes her hair until she is limp, her forehead dropped forward, resting against his ribs.

“Lean back.” Kaoru grumbles wordlessly in the back of her throat but obeys, jumping slightly as he begins to ladle the cool water over her hair, one hand working to clean the lather away. 

Kaoru has never felt so...cherished. She is used to taking care of the people around her, even Kenshin, who has a terrible habit of getting wounded, and seems to always carry his mental and emotional pain like tattered armor. Sanosuke she tends to as though he is an errant brother who gets away with far too much because he can always make her laugh, and even when her father was alive, she was forever trailing after him, cooking terrible meals and learning how to take care of a home because he was actually quite hopeless with even the most basic of household tasks.

She is not used to being taken care of, and while it is a strange feeling, it is also quite nice.

“Stand up.” Kaoru’s limbs, loosened and easy, stiffen at his words. There is that something in his voice again, something she can’t place, but it mimics the pulse in her chest and heaviness of her stomach, and she – she just – 

“What?” 

“Stand up,” Kenshin urges her, one hand curling around the back of her neck, pulling gently as he steps back. Kaoru follows, unsure of what to do with her arms. There isn’t much use in hiding behind them, not really; there is propriety and than there is propriety in a marriage. “I’ll wash you.”

Kaoru has never – never – felt more naked in her life than now, as she stands, watching Kenshin lather up a cloth. 

“Kenshin,” she asks quietly as he stretches out her arm, eyes once again hidden behind his hair as he begins to wash her. “May I ask you something?”

“Of course.” When Kenshin looks up and meets her gaze he is smiling, something incredibly tender written across his face as he takes her hand in his, brushing his thumb across her knuckles. 

“I know that we haven’t –” Kaoru founders a moment, searching for the proper phrasing. In that moment she is acutely aware of the fact that he is older than she is, and far more experienced. Finally she simply has to square her bare shoulders, catching glimpses of his lowered eyes through his hair as he rubs his cloth covered hand down her arm. “I know that we haven’t ever been together as – as a man and woman. A man and wife, I mean. And I was – well, I was wondering why.”

Kenshin does not answer her right away. He simply continues washing her, gentle as he takes her hand between both of his own, taking care to clean the soft skin between her fingers. Kaoru watches him, anxiety a sharp pain in her stomach.

“When we were first married I didn’t think it was right to ask you to lay with me,” Kenshin speaks softly, dropping her hand to move to her shoulders and neck. Kaoru cannot hide her shiver. “We were married, but we didn’t know each other. I couldn’t see the point of forcing you to act out of obligation to me as your husband; it should never be an obligation, Kaoru. Physical love should be an expression of deep emotion.”

For a moment, Kaoru cannot speak past the emotion that builds in her chest like captured rays of sunshine. For all the acts he commits in the war – in all the ways he tears his own soul apart – he does it for the greater good of their country. He takes that goodness into every aspect of his life, it seems; taking in two orphan boys in Kyoto, befriending her father who had no heart for war, marrying Kaoru to keep her from a marriage where she would have been forced into a narrow role, and holding off on acts the vast majority of other men would have insisted upon.

“Well,” she finally finds her voice, hands trembling at her sides and a nervous smile curling her mouth. “You’re more of an idiot than I thought if you don’t realize how much I care about you.”

Kenshin’s laugh is rich, unreserved and entirely unexpected. When he looks up he is grinning widely, one hand curling around the side of her neck.

“I know.” Kenshin assures her as his laughter dwindles, though it still warms his voice in a rich lull. He lowers his head as he speaks, softly brushing his mouth back-and-forth across Kaoru’s before she lifts her arms, winding them around his neck. He gives a deep, rumbling noise as he steps into her body, and Kaoru’s knees nearly turn to water under as she discovers the sensation of bare skin rubbing against bare skin.


	32. Smiles

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You just don't know how badly I wanted to title this one "Afterglow." I decided to be classy about it, though. As classy as I ever get, at least, lol.

Kaoru feels sure that as she walks the streets of Edo, the looks she receives from women she has known her whole life are knowing. They _must_ be, because Kaoru is changed -- surely it is painted across her face, in the line of her shoulders and flutter of her kimono. The old men and women tending the little shops smile knowingly and chuckle at her pink cheeks and endless smiles.

"You've got the look of spring about you," Isamu-san, the tofu vender. chortles with a wink. "I've seen your husband around town, on loan from the war. No, no, this is on me; but only if you promise to have a strong son and bring him to visit this old man! Or maybe a little girl, Kaoru-chan, one with your pretty eyes." 

Kaoru giggles, and floats all the way back to the dojo.

Sano is sweeping more snow from the path. He only starts grumbling when he sees her.

"Look at you, all smiles, and here I am _laboring_. This is abuse, jou-chan!"

Kaoru sticks her tongue out before returning to her sickeningly cheerful grin. Sano rolls his eyes so largely they threaten to come loose. The face he makes is one of disgust.

"Gods save me from a happily married couple," he grumbles as the sky opens up and snow begins to flutter down once more. "All that touching and laughing and leering. _Yuck_."

"Jealous!" Sing-songing the word over her shoulder as she disappears into the house, Kaoru chortles at Sano's answering cry of,

"Nu _-uh_! You...stupid...married person!" 

"You're not cooking, are you?" Yahiko asks as soon as he catches sight of Kaoru. He has more color today, and maybe even a stronger set to his shoulders. The turn of his mouth is decidedly ill at the thought of Koaru's cooking, however. "It makes my stomach hurt."

"Don't talk to your sensai like that," Kenshin repremands, while giving Kaoru look that makes her feet float off the ground. Is she still smiling? She _is_. She isn't _ever_ going to stop, either. 

"Yeah, don't talk to your sensai like that,” she parrots.

Yahiko whines. Kenshin sings quietly as he cooks dinner. Sanosuke comes inside with snow melting in his hair, and falls asleep sitting up. Koaru works at darning one of Sano's jackets. 

And she is happy.


	33. Moonlight

The day comes, of course, when Kenshin is summoned back to Kyoto. Kaoru continues to wear her happy smiles, though perhaps they are less bright at the thought of her husband returning to the only escalating violence. Yahiko grows surly at the news Kenshin is leaving with the dawn, and though he chafes at the mere suggestion that he is still a child, deep in his eyes he shows the reflection of a boy scared to lose his new and powerful protector. 

 

Yahiko's futon is moved into Sano's room. Kaoru tucks him in, even though he spits like a caged animal.

 

"I don't need _coddling_!" 

 

"Of course not." Agreement made, Yahiko slumps tiredly, and allows Kaoru to make sure he is safe and secure under his warm quilt. "Kaoru?" He breathes quietly as she makes the motion to stand and leave, catching her hand.

 

"Yes, Yahiko?" 

 

He gives her a determined gaze, squeezing her fingers. 

 

"Don't worry about Kenshin, he'll be okay. And I'm here now, so I'll keep you safe while he's in Kyoto." She suppresses her laughter – she doesn't want him to think she's mocking him, or to wound his fragile ego – and bends low to kiss forehead. Yahiko's expression is positively startled.

 

"I'll be the most well protected woman in all of Japan." 

 

Kenshin is waiting in their room. He is smiling most particularly, tenderly but with a fair amount of humor, his violet eyes sparkling.

 

"The most protected woman in all of Japan, hmm?" He inquires lowly, and Kaoru laughs.

 

"I will be!" she promises. "Can you imagine the poor idiot stupid enough to break into this dojo? A woman wielding a bokken, Sano and possibly Katsu, and Yahiko-chan bashing him with a shinai and chewing his head off?"

 

Kenshin seems positively cheerful at the thought the sight the imaginary attacker would find.

 

In time kimono is hung and Kaoru is warming herself under the quilt, while Kenshin lays his sword above their heads and settles down beside her. His hand worms it way under fabric to rest on her bare stomach, and he kisses her neck.

 

"I'll miss you," he sighs against her skin. Kaoru tangles her fingers in his hair and blinks back tears, unwilling to shed them in front of her husband. She will cry when he is gone, but she refuses to put the burden of them on Kenshin's already weighted shoulders before he goes back to war. 

 

"I'll miss you," she repeats heavily, before lifting her voice and smiling widely as Kenshin looks up at her. "But I've decided not to be sad. I'll be very happy, because I know you'll come home."

 

Kenshin's eyes glow. He kisses her, and it tastes so much like love that Kaoru fears her heart is growing too large for her chest. Perhaps she'll die from love, her heart simply too small to hold it all.

 

(How strange, some distant part of her muses as Kenshin's clever fingers begins riding her of clothing, fully admitting that she loves her husband. Stranger still that she thought she never would.)

 

They make love in dim moonlight. Kaoru holds tight to Kenshin's shoulders, steals his hand and presses it against her mouth, palm tight against his knuckles as she attempts to silence herself. Kenshin laughs against her breasts, groans into her mouth, and when it is over his touches are still cherishing. 

 

"You're right," he says, perhaps when he thinks she is asleep. "I will come home."

 


	34. Splinters

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Am I the only one that finds Hyottoko hysterical in canon? Because, yeah, I pretty much hurt myself giggling when he gets brought in.

Kenshin leaves and time passes, refusing to be still and quiet while Kaoru waits for his return.

 

Sano gambles and comes home late, complains about her cooking and makes one brave attempt to create a meal better than Kaoru's own. The miso catches fire – how did he manage that, anyway? – and Yahiko chokes on a fish bone. They agree to eat out whenever possible, and Kaoru accepts more and more positions with other dojos to fund them.

 

Yahiko complains louder and louder each day, but after the first month, Sanosuke loses his temper and drags him off the roof.

 

"You're lucky, kid, you know that?" Sano demands, fists on his hips. "Stop complaining and get to work! You want to learn how to protect the people you care about? Become strong! Train hard! And be respectful to jou-chan, or I'm going to thump knots on your head so tall you'll have to climb a ladder to rub them!"

 

Yahiko stops skipping practices, and makes headway. Kaoru basks in the pride she finds in her young student, though when she brags on his rapid progress to the instructors at other dojos, it is always when Yahiko is at least out of ear shot, if not there at all. (His ego overtakes him if Kaoru is too free with praise.)

 

One boy she teaches at another dojo begins showing up often, and following her around town.

 

He brings her a ribbon for her hair, blushes scarlet when she thanks him, and hides form her sight for a solid week.

 

"I'm telling Kenshin you have a boyfriend," Sano teases, while Yahiko chortles and Kaoru rolls her eyes. 

 

"Go ahead." She waves her hands, shrugging. "I'm sure he'll be very threatened by Sadao-chan. He's barely older than Yahiko, after all."

 

"What's that supposed to mean?" The table is nearly over turned as Yahiko jumps up, producing his shinai from his side (it is never out of his reach) to brandish it menacingly at his teacher. Kaoru takes a calm sip of her tea, and studiously ignores his ire.

 

Nearly a month after Kenshin's departure, the routine of the household is shattered when the gate to the dojo is busted down. Shards of broken wood litter the path, and Sanosuke tears a Sano-shaped hole in one of the shoji to get outside.

 

"We demand to see the Battousai!" a giant roars, belly flopping disturbingly over his hakama. Kaoru nearly strains her neck peering up at him. 

 

" _Stupid_!" Yahiko yowls like an angry cat, bristling all over as he thrusts his shinai forward. "What're you thinking, busting in here like this? You think he's _here_?"

 

"Well..." the large man breathes questioningly, tipping his massive head to the side. "Yes?" 

 

" _No_ ," Kaoru corrects, stomping forward. "He's in Kyoto, you _jerk_ , where the war is at! You broke my gate! Just look – do you have any idea how much this is going to cost to fix? Money doesn't just fall out of the sky, you know, I hope you have a way for paying for this!"

 

"Uh..." Back peddling away from Kaoru, ground trembling under his massive tread, the giant looks behind him. "Guys?"

 

"You fool!" A man appears from nowhere. Face hidden behind a monstrous mask, he radiates stiff anger. "I told you not to come busting in here – Okashira will hear about this, Hyottoko!"

 

"Demon!" warbling highly from a burst of fear, Yahiko looks positively spooked. "Kaoru, get back here!"

 

"Get out of my dojo!" Shoulders slumping, the giant backs up as Kaoru advances on him. "Out! Out! Both of you!"

 

The pair leaves. In a fit of violent rage, Kaoru tosses hunks of thick wood around, until she's panting and has several splinters.

 

"That...was...weird." Sano breathes.

 

"You're telling me!" is Yahiko's prompt agreement.

 

"Better send Kenshin a message.” Scratching his head, Sano surveys the damage. "Before I try and fix the gate. Man, they really made a mess."

 

"I'm going to kick their sorry butts!" Kaoru stomps her feet and bares her teeth, and Yahiko rather wisely chooses to hide, rather than allow Kaoru to take her frustration out on him.


	35. Sly

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't particularly care for Megumi, but I do enjoy writing her.

Sano brings home a woman the next day; her name is Takani Megumi, and she has a terrible habit of being beautiful, delicate, self-assured, and _perfect_. Kaoru thinks she may hate her.

  
  


"I think I won her playing dice?" Sanouske doesn't sound at all sure. "That's what the guys said, at least."

  
  


"Oh ho ho!" The fox like woman laughs, hiding her mouth behind one perfect hand and beautiful sleeve. Kaoru twitches. "Don't be so shy -- he asked me to marry him!"

  
  


"Whoa, wait, what?" Sanosuke looks positively terrified. "I don't remember that, no one said anything about marriage --"

  
  


"My goodness, do you _always_ dress like a man?" Megumi inquires, looking rather...smug. "How...modern."

  
  


"I'm the Assitant Master of the Kamiya Kasshin-Ryu." Kaoru stiffly informs the woman. 

  
  


"That certainly explains how sweaty you are!" 

  
  


Yahiko glares even harder than Kaoru after _that_ particular comment.

  
  


"Hey! I know she's ugly, but you better be nice to my sensai!"

  
  


" _Ugly_?" Kaoru shrieks, "Why you little --"

  
  


"I think it's very brave for such a plain little girl to dress like she does. She must not want to find a husband at all." Laughing brightly, Megumi flutters her hands at Kaoru.

  
  


"I'm _married_ , thank you," Kaoru snips, nose high in the air.

  
  


"Oh really?" Megumi looks positively shocked. "Are you _sure_?"

  
  


"Sano...” Teeth gritting together loudly, Kaoru swings her dark glare on Sano. "Get. Her. Out. Of. Our. Home."

  
  


"Ah, yes ma'am. Come on, fox lady, it looks like it's time you went on back to where ever you came from."

  
  


"Don't send me away!" Collapsing into dramatic hystronics, she hides her face, and still somehow manages to peak up at them all with her large, beautiful eyes. "I haven't any where else to go!"

  
  


"Jou-chan..." Sanosuke wheedles. He's a sucker for a pretty face, and does enjoy feeling like a hero.

  
  


"You owe me,” Kaoru answers in a hiss, before marching away.


	36. Subtle Threats

"Is it true?" Megumi asks after a day in residence at the dojo, while Kaoru drinks tea and wonders how her home has become a magnet for castaways. Broken from her thoughts, she looks up, brow furrowing in a silent question of confusion. 

 

"I was in town today, picking up a few ingredients for dinner –" Megumi is cooking, a repayment for being allowed to stay. Kaoru doesn't have it in her to begrudge the woman for being a better cook than herself, because it smells _delicious_. "And, well, I heard some very shocking rumors."

 

"I don't know what Sano did with that dog," Kaoru answers bracingly, frowning. "All I know is that he drank quite a lot of sake, and when he came the next morning, Katsu wanted to know if it was a legally binding marriage."

 

"Ah..." appering positively shocked, Megumi looks up from the pot, blinking rapidly. "I wasn't – that wasn't – I'm sorry, but did Sanosuke marry a _dog_?"

 

"I don't know," Kaoru repeats firmly, "and I don't _want_ to know."

 

"You don't think that...that he..." Fluttering one hand expressively, Megumi raises her eyebrows. "You _know_."

 

"No! Well...I don't think he did." 

 

The two women are silent. Megumi slants a look at Kaoru, breathing,

 

"How would that –"

 

"This dinner smells so wonderful, Megumi-san!" Kaoru interrupts brightly. "Thank you so much for preparing it for us."

 

"It is the least I can do," she demurs, dipping her head. "But, I was wondering...I had heard talk in town today – not about Sanosuke – and I was wondering if any of it was true...is your husband truly the demon of Kyoto?"

 

"My husband is at war.” Choosing her words carefully, Kaoru arranges them like sharp edged flowers. "Like so many other men."

 

"Yes, but is he the hitokiri Battousai?" Almost – but not quite – wincing at the other woman's directness, Kaoru stiffens her shoulders before meeting Megumi's gaze. For a time she is quiet, wondering how much to say. And then, because she thinks this woman should know who may come home at any time, she answers,

 

"Yes. My husband is known as the Battousai."

 

"Aren't you frightened of him?" 

 

Kaoru snorts before she can help herself, fighting down a laugh of incredulity. 

 

"Frightened of – of Battousai? I know my husband has earned a fearsome reputation at war (and rightly so), but I am his wife. I have nothing to fear from him."

 

"You truly believe that, don't you?" 

 

"Why wouldn't I?"

 

"I had heard other things, before I came here, about the Battousai. Rumors. They say he killed his first wife."

 

The wooden tea cup clatters to floor. Kaoru does not reach for it.Her heartbeat fills her ears like the pounding of war drums. Rage makes her hands tremble, and spots flicker in front of her eyes.

 

It seems an eternity before she can speak.

 

"My husband's honored first wife was a casualty of war, like so many others," she finally responds, thrusting her words forward, using them as she would her bokken. "If Battousai had any involvement in her death, then it was a tragic accident, and nothing he would have done willingly. 

 

"And Takani-san," she ends with cold formality, "if you would like to stay in _our_ home, on my goodwill as the second wife of the Battousai you seem so willing to speak so cruelly of, you will never speak of this again. With anyone. And if you find yourself here when my husband returns, please kindly keep in mind that one does not become the assistant master of the Kamiya Kasshin-ryu simply by being the daughter of the creator. I am, perhaps, one of the most highly trained women you will ever meet. And I would be terribly angry if those horrible rumors were thrown in his face."

 

Megumi visibly shrinks. She nods tightly. 

 

Kaoru leaves, and refuses dinner.


	37. Breathe

"I work for the Oniwanbanshu," Megumi admits after four days at the dojo, and only because Kaoru has her backed against a wall, the tip of a bokken threatening to crush her throat. "They sent me here. I had to, you don't understand, they have information on my family and I –"

 

"A spy," Kaoru spits. "Because of you, Yahiko is hurt!"

 

The adrenaline from the attack has yet to fade. Kaoru is surprised to find that, for the first time in her life, she is truly murderous. Katsu and Sanosuke huddle around the frothing, seizing Yahiko, who is so close to death. (Kaoru feels her heart chipping and cracking at the very thought. She saved him, nursed him, has trained him..and now she will loose him...)

 

"I can save him!" Megumi comes dangerously close to shouting. There may be tears at the corners of her eyes, but Kaoru feels no pity for the other woman. "I'm a doctor – I can save him, if you would let me! Don't be childish, or his death will be as much your fault as it is mine!"

 

"If you hurt him worse," Kaoru threatens lowly, leaning close, "I _will_ kill you."

 

She means it.

 

Minutes later, Katsu is running into town, carrying a list hastily written by Megumi. Sano is on his heals, streaking to Dr. Gensai's office. Kaoru carries her student into their home, lays him on she and Kenshin's futon, and prays so hard she thinks it makes her soul bleed.

 

The clock's ticking is painful.

 

Katsu returns. Megumi mixes and steeps, pulls a needle from her sleeve and injects this mixture straight in Yahiko's arm. He is blue and gray, the colors of death. White foam covers his purple lips. Kaoru presses her hand to his chest, but feels no heartbeat.

 

"Breathe," Megumi demands, shoving Kaoru's hand away to press violently on the child's chest. "Come on, Yahiko-chan, _breathe_!"

 

A gasp.

 

A terrible choking noise.

 

Vomiting.

 

Yahiko breathes. His heart beats. 

 

Kaoru puts her hands over her face, and weeps.

 

  
  



	38. Steel

"They want information on the Battousai," Megumi admits to Kaoru as Dr. Gensai attends Yahiko, who is unconscious but gaining color. Kaoru has taken her outside, and is now fighting back the urge to do something dangerous and terrible. "I've been searching for my family; the war tore us apart, you see. The Oniwanbanshu has information on them, if they're alive or dead, where they are – they said they would give it all to me if I gathered information for them."

 

"We took you in out of kindness, and you betrayed us." Sharp as any finely honed nihonto, Kaoru's voice slices through the air straight towards the other woman.

 

"I'm sorry," Megumi answers resolutely, her chin stubborn and her eyes ashamed. "But I did what I had to do."

 

"You'll tell me everything about them," Kaoru orders, " _Everything_."

 

"You can't..." trailing off, Megumi takes on a positively terrified expression. "Kaoru-san, you can't possible be planning on confronting them. They'll kill you."

 

"They hurt my student." Who Kaoru is coming to love as though he is her own; part brother, part son, entirely precious and utterly irreplaceable. "They sent you here to gather information to hurt my husband." Who Kaoru is now wholly and completely devoted to. "And you used all your – your flashing eyes and fox smiles to trick Sano!" Who she thinks is the brother her parents never provided her. 

 

The sins of this group – and of Takani Megumi – stack so high they nearly touch the heavens.

 

Kaoru will not be forgetting any of this.

 

"They will kill you," Megumi repeats desperately, holding out her hands. "I know you're angry, but you must send for your husband. Bring the Battousai here, he is the only one who has half a chance of defeating the Oniwanbanshu and protecting the people you care for."

 

"My husband protects our country," Kaoru says coldly. "He hasn't got them time for these minor troubles. Luckily, he married a very strong wife."

 

The smile she wears is sharp and cold, like steel.


	39. Strongest

When Kaoru meets Shinomori Aioshi, Okashira of the Oniwanbanshu, she is tattered, bloody, half broken, and angry as hell. Sanosuke staggers like a half toppled tree, and yet the only reason he isn't punching everyone in sight into their next life is because Shikijo of the Oniwanbanshu holds him back. Yahiko, brave boy that he is, is being carried in one hand by the large Hyottoko. He looks at the boy like he's gained a new pet.

 

"I never imagined a woman, a street fighter, and a child would cause our group such damage." The young Okashira examines Kaoru as though he is quietly planning how best to slice her open. "I suppose I should not be. Of course the Battousai would not surround himself with weaklings."

 

"Why do you want information on my husband?" Kaoru demands, taking a strong step forward. It hurts – her leg is terribly wounded. She is sure she can see white bone under the blood and sliced muscles, but she ignores it. In time she will allow herself to feel pain, but she can't afford to acknowledge it now.

 

"The hitokiri Battousai is said to be the strongest man in all Japan. After these long years of revolution, the war is coming to end, and yet we of the Oniwanbanshu have not been allowed to pit ourselves against the strongest of the Ishin-Shishi. I seek to remedy this lie that a single hitokiri is stronger than our fractions, and restore the honor of the Oniwanbanshu."

 

It takes Kaoru a moment to understand what he is saying. Perhaps the blood loss makes her slow, or maybe she simply doesn't want to accept what she hears.

 

"You're telling me," she speaks slowly, voice dulled by disbelief, "this all happened because you want to be known as the _strongest_?"

 

"Not me," Shinomori corrects. "The Oniwanbanshu. We _are_ the strongest, and we will prove it."

 

"That's the stupidest thing I've ever heard!" Spitting the words like venom, Kaoru flares violently. "That weird little guy nearly killed Yahiko with a poisoned dart, you sent Megumi-san to spy on us, and all because you want to be _strong_? Well, just take the damn title! We don't care, none of us; I know the Battousai doesn't!"

 

"It can't be taken. It must be won."

 

"Stupid! So stupid! We're going home – and don't you follow us, or ever come near my dojo again!" 

 

"You think you can simply leave?" Shinomori appears rather...bemused, both by her actions and words. "You have fought your way into our ranks, a feat you should be proud of, Himura-san. But surely you do not expect to be allowed to leave after seeing our faces and learning our location?"

 

"I'll forget your faces." A lie, but he doesn't need to know it. "And you can change locations."

 

"I don't like killing women," the Okashira admits, “it is a bitter thing. So this time, just this once, you will all be allowed to leave. But we will return, when your husband does."

 

"Bring it on!" Yahiko roars, flailing in Hyottoko's grip. "Ken – Battousai will kick your _butts_!"

 

"Aww," Hyottoko coos cheerfully. Thrusting the boy out, he shows Yahiko off to Han'nya, who manages to appear deeply unimpressed even without visible facial expression. "Look at it! It's so squirmy!"

 

"Put me down, you dick!" Kicking does Yahiko no good, but he insists on trying. 

 

"Take the title," Kaoru repeats darkly, "Battousai doesn't care if he keeps it or not. But you're going to be very sorry if you attack us when he comes home from Kyoto."

 

"Han'nya," Shinomori gestures with one hand,"lead them out."

 

"Okashira." Han'nya bows. 


	40. Telegraph

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Me? I'm on Megumi's side.

A telegram from the newly erected lines arrives perhaps a week later. Short and straight to the point, it reads,

 

_Received news of attack. Am returning soon._

Seven words. Plainly printed; black ink on yellow paper, and nothing more.

 

It still manages to burn with Kenshin's yet unleashed rage.

 

"Who told Kenshin?" Kaoru demands from her futon, where she is currently convalescing. She strains the stitches in her upper arm by pointing accusingly at Sanosuke. "It was _you_ , wasn't it? You dirty traitor."

 

"I didn't!" Hands thrust forward, Sano shakes his head rapidly. " _No_. He would kill me if he found out I let you go, never mind that I helped you – why the hell would I tell him? I ain't got no death wish!"

 

Shifting her focus to Yahiko, Kaoru glares so hard that her pupil pales. 

 

"Don't look at me, ugly!" Come to think of, Kaoru isn't even sure Yahiko knows what a telegraph _is._ This leaves...

 

"I didn't send a telegraph." states Katsu carefully, and Kaoru knows he's hiding _something._ His hands twist nervously before disappearing from sight. _That little –_

"You're dead," Kaoru swears, and begins the laborious task of attempting to stand. "Come over here so I can hit you."

 

Megumi begins to slink from the room.

 

"I didn't send the telegraph!" Katsu repeats desperately, pointing at the attempting to disappear doctor. "I just let it slip _where_ to send it."

 

"Megumi-san!" Kaoru thrusts an accusing finger at Megumi. "I should have _known_ it was you!" 

 

The other woman gives up on escaping, though she does so while giving Katsu an irritated look.

 

"Someone needed to inform Battousai-san of what was happening," says Megumi. "You were injured, and rather seriously. I'm quite sure your husband would like to know this."

 

"He is at _war_ ," Kaoru bites off. "He doesn't need to be bothered. If he's distracted, he could be killed."

 

"If you died and he didn't even know why, he would never forgive himself." 

 

Kaoru can't think of a really good response, so she hisses, "Oh, shut up," before allowing Yahiko to help her drink some of the tea Dr. Gensai left. It makes the world go soft, like feathers, and then Kaoru sleeps for a long, long while.

 

 


	41. Battousai

Kenshin arrives home in a carriage. He is accompanied by two rather stately looking men, and one truly ragged looking samurai. They follow Kenshin into the dojo, and it is most unfortunate that she still has a pronounced limp – though her leg does grow stronger each day. It is even more unfortunate that the bruises haven't gone, yet; Kaoru is still yellow and green on the right side of her face, and there are many more that Kenshin will find under her clothing.

He stops moving the moment he catches sight of her.

The stare she receives from his sharp gold eyes is practically painful.

"Kenshin!" Yahiko cheerfully cries, too young – or unwilling – to notice that his hero is beginning to vibrate with a wrath that may bring the world down on all their heads. "You're home! Who're they?"

"Manners, Yahiko." Is the answer Yahiko receives, and all the while Kenshin's jaw is clinching, hands spasming violently at his sides.

Greetings are exchanged. Their visitors are politicians, and one bodyguard. They need protection –where is safer than the home of the Battousai? 

"Peace talks," one tells Kaoru, exhaustion carving gaunt hallows in his cheeks. "Finally." 

"I'll set up your rooms." Kaoru bows, stands stiffly, and hobbles away. Megumi follows; she knows Kaoru can't set out futons on her own.

" _That's_ the Battousai?" She whispers in Kaoru's ear, and receives a nod in return.

"He's certainly handsome, but my goodness - he's so _small_..." 

Kaoru nearly bites her tongue in half to keep from snickering.

 

  
  



	42. Enraged

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I still maintain that if Kenshin ain't happy, ain't no one happy. And yes, this is another favorite chapter.

"What were you _thinking_?" Kenshin doesn't shout. He doesn't _need_ to shout; he has an awful, terrible tone of voice that is worse than the loudest of enraged bellows. He speaks directly after the clack of the fusuma being shut. 

Kaoru can't meet his eyes, so she stares at his ear. They are good looking – not too large, not too small. They're nice, as far as ears go.

"You could have been killed," he continues, stalking forward."You could have _died_ , Kaoru, and I – I would have had to bury you." 

She winces. (She hadn't thought of that, actually.)

"If someone comes into our home, you defend yourself," the hands that wrap around Kaoru's shoulders are gentle; but they are not, within the least, unyielding. Kaoru moves her gaze to his nose. "I don't care how far you have to go to keep yourself alive. But you never – _never_! – seek out a fight on your own! You never walk into the lair of an enemy! _Never again, Kaoru_!"

"I know you're upset, Kenshin." Kaoru isn't going to cry, she refuses to cry, _she is not crying_ – "But I did what I thought was best. They came into our home, and Megumi was spying for them...I am, after all, the Assistant Master of the Kamiya Kasshin-ryu. I can take –"

"I don't care _what_ you are!" Ah, this is Kenshin shouting. Honestly shouting, so loudly Kaoru flinches backwards and the tears begin falling down her cheeks like rain. "I am your _husband_ , and you will not – you will _never_ _ **again**_ put yourself in such danger!"

Kaoru says nothing. She _can't_. Her throat is too tight. She's actually sobbing now, and Kenshin trembles so violently it shakes her.

He does not throw her backwards. He never tightens his grip on her arms, not even a small fraction. What Kenshin does is this: he releases her, one finger at a time. He takes a step back, and another, and another, and another; all very slowly.

He inhales.

He exhales.

He curses, turns on his heal, and slams out of the room.

Kaoru sinks to their futon and sobs so hard it feels as though her chest is being ripped open.

 

  
  



	43. Brittle

Dinner is a thoroughly miserable affair. Yahiko, for all his quick intelligence and clever eyes, is simply too young to fully understand what is going on. Or maybe...maybe Kaoru doesn't give him enough credit. Perhaps it is not misunderstanding that makes him look between Kaoru and Kenshin, makes him pick at his food and curl his shoulder's inwards. Maybe it is simply fear, fear that this tension will shatter his new home.

Kaoru pities him, and wishes they had found him sooner. For all Yahiko's strength, he has still been terribly wounded by his short life.

Megumi flirts with the politicians. She flutters her eyes and hands, pouts her red mouth, laughs like a spring rain. 

She flinches when Kenshin so much as glances in her direction.

Sanosuke tries overly hard to be cheerful. He tells dirty jokes; the body guarding samurai nearly chokes on a mouthful of rice at one.

"Sano," Kaoru breathes darkly, gesturing to Yahiko. "Not in front of Yahiko-chan."

" _Don't_ call me Yahiko- _chan_!" He bellows, which makes the politicians chuckle. 

Katsu avoided the situation all together by taking one look at Kenshin's face before dinner was served, turning on his heal, and fleeing. Kaoru wishes she had gone with him.

Kenshin hides his eyes behind his bangs. He eats everything in front of him, but she doubts he tastes it. He sits stiffly, and excuses himself as soon as possible.

"Locking up," he explains, fists balled at his sides.

"Himura-san." the bodyguard (what _is_ his name? Yoshida...maybe?) turns to her once Kenshin is gone. "Please don't think this rude, but while Battousai-san was in Kyoto, were you assaulted? Has someone been giving you trouble? I would be honored to assist the wife of the Battousai, if there is a problem that needs sorting out." 

"Thank you so much for the kind offer." Kaoru prays her smile isn't as brittle as it feels. "But I believe the issue has been resolved. At least for now."

The look that Yoshida gives Sanosuke is not kind.

"If you are sure, Himura-san." 

Sanosuke bristles, but says nothing, and Kaoru is thankful for the small gift.

After dinner they drink tea. Kaoru takes out the little bag of Kenshin's clothing, and patches or darns what she can. Afterward she sits quietly, head lowered, speaking only when absolutely necessary.

They go to bed together, she and Kenshin He doesn't touch her; she goes to the futon, he props himself against the wall, eyes stony, with his sheathed katana braced against his shoulder.


	44. Shamisen

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sometimes, when I'm sad, I read this one. Then I'm all, "Awww, twu wuv." It's a good thing. ;)

Kaoru wakes in the early hours of the morning, and finds herself sprawled across Kenshin's chest. He plays with her hair, with his other hand behind his head and his eyes locked on the ceiling.

"I don't think I would survive if you were taken away from he," he speaks softly, like rain on leaves. Still, he doesn't look at her. "The thought alone nearly makes my heart stop beating."

What can Kaoru say?

"I will never go into that type of situation – unless I have to – again. I promise." More silence. Kenshin's fingers never stop moving through the thick mass of her hair. Kaoru toys with the words at the back of her tongue, plucking at them like the strings of a shamisen. Shockingly, the thought of uttering them does not scare her, or bring up even the slightest fear of rejection. 

How could they? Kenshin has admitted that the thought of loosing her may kill him; she does not think there is anything that would make a man more naked and bare than that. 

"I love you," she says after a short while, spreading her hand across his chest. He is warm, and under her ear, she hears his heart skip a beat. 

"Kaoru..." The way in which Kenshin breathes her name (as though it is a sacred prayer to the gods) is precious, and is all Kaoru needs to know that she, and her heart, is safe.


	45. Welcome Home

The war officially ends a mere four days later. Treaties are signed; neither the Imperialists nor the Shogunate are entirely happy with the outcome, but how can they be? Neither truly win, and not simply because so many have been lost. Concessions have to be made, and a great many on both sides.

"This peace is new and fragile," Kenshin explains when he returns home, fresh from the new Imperial Palace. He shines in hisnew kimono, polished like a lord. "The fighting isn't entirely over yet, and it will take time to grow. But my part is done."

"You don't have to go back to Kyoto?" Radiating joy and excitement, Yahiko bounds to his feet. Kenshin laughs – what a pure, beautiful sound – nodding. "That's _great_! You can see everything Kaoru's taught me, I'm getting really good! And maybe you can show me some stuff, too! And we can go to the Akabeko together!" 

So happy it feels as though she has swallowed the sun, Kaoru hurls herself at Kenshin. He catches her with a surprised laugh, his arms tightening in an embrace of relief and happiness. Kenshin positively gleams.

"It's finally over," he whispers, as though afraid if he speaks too loudly it will shatter their new reality.

"Welcome home, Himura Kenshin." 

His smile is radiant.


	46. Epilogue: Peace

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ah, the end. I hope you lot here on AO3 enjoyed the ride as much as I have. :) Prod me often, Power has a sequel I need to finish. (And by 'sequel' I mean 'angstqel.')

Kaoru does not fool herself into believing, even for a moment, that the trials of her new marriage and life with Kenshin are over. There is simply so much that remains unsettled; this business with the Obiwanbansu, who long for the title of the strongest, for one, as well as all the others who have hatred in their hearts for the Battousai. They are never far from Kaoru's mind; she is not nearly naive enough to believe that enemies will not come knocking at their door.

However –

Spring has come. The snow melts, and grass emerges, as green as dark jade. The sun grows warmer, hanging like a bright lantern in a vividly blue sky. Yahiko trains in the yard, diligent (for the moment) and promising. Kenshin adjusts the boy's elbows, line of his shoulders, the stance of his legs. 

Sanosuke and Katsu laugh like children, whispering, falling silent when Kaoru or anyone else come too close. She suspects something is about to go up in flames, but she can't blame them for celebrating – so long as it isn't their home that has a flame taken to it.

Megumi joins Kaoru on the engawa, beaming quietly.

"I've accepted a position with Dr. Gensai," she informs Kaoru after a time of watching Kenshin expertly, and happily, teach Yahiko. "After I save up some money, I'm going to hire someone to look for my family. I'll do it the right way, without hurting anyone."

"I'm glad, Megumi-san." Kaoru means it, from the bottom of her heart. What would she have done, if her family had been taken from her? Anything – anything in the world to bring them all back. "I hope you find them."

"Dr. Gensai was kind enough to offer me lodging at his clinic, so I will be leaving tomorrow. I wanted to thank you for all your kindness, Kaoru-chan, for giving me a home when I needed it, and for helping me even though I was dishonest."

"I'm glad to have done it. Just promise you'll come visit us often."

"You only want me to cook!" Megumi chortles, and perhaps there is the rustling of fox ears under her hair. Kaoru laughs with her, rolling her eyes upwards for a moment before nodding.

"Well...yes, you are very good at it."

It doesn't matter what the future brings, because Kaoru knows she will be strong enough to withstand it. Her strength is in these walls that her father built, and that her mother turned into a home. It is in Yahiko, Sano, Katsu, even Megumi – but especially in Kenshin.

He catches her eye, and beams. Kaoru's heart flutters.

For just this very moment, there is absolutely nothing wrong in the world. They are, at long last, at peace.


End file.
